Bouncing Off Walls

This morning Eli acted like he was on red kool-aid. He constantly made noises (as opposed to merely chattering incessantly), threw everything liftable, and bounced off and around furniture. Getting him dressed was frustrating work. He would not stop bouncing which made pulling clothes on him somewhat of a challenge. Then he threw his “nunnerwear” up and it vanished (got lodged behind furniture). Finally, out of frustration, I stood over him with a terrifying look on my face and in a growling voice told him to get himself dressed NOW or there would be Unhappy Consequences. He dressed himself in lightning speed.

I turned my attention to Hannah’s hair while Eli dashed back and forth between the kitchen where Navayah was and bathroom where we were. He entered the bathroom at full speed, slammed into Hannah who cried, ricochetted off the mirror, picked himself back up, then breathlessly told me Nayah was crying (a sound you cannot avoid hearing no matter where you are in the house). After settling him down enough to stand still, focus his eyes on his sister and apologize to her, we went into the kitchen. In his enthusiasm to entertain Nayah, he had climbed onto the table and knocked over Hannah’s milky cereal bowl. That was the last straw. I sat him down on the couch and told him he needed to sit still there for a two minute Time Out. Thirteen seconds later I heard him crying. I check on him.

“I’m bweeding!” Sure enough, his lip was bleeding.

“What happened?”

“I wazth kwimeen on da couch n I fell n hit my wipp.” (I was climbing on the couch and I fell and hit my lip.)

At that point, I gave up and just fed him. Since then he has been much calmer and more focused. A new lesson. Apparently hunger has a similar effect on him as red food coloring. And here I thought it just made him cranky or lethargic! Now I know.

Creating New Landscapes

The girls needed a bath. I had two choices: I could watch Eli and make sure he did not sin in the kitchen, or I could go to the bathroom and watch Hannah and Navayah to make sure Nayah especially did not drown. I feel like God should have rewarded me for choosing Life.

The girls were clean and combed and dressed. A sticky Eli greeted me carrying the bottle of honey. That did not bode well, because he would have had to climb on and across the table in order to reach it, and the table was not exactly cleared… For the first time in twenty minutes, I came to the kitchen. This was what I saw:

The washcloth drawer was open. Even though I had just done laundry, it looked empty. My eyes travelled to the sink, and the Mystery of the Missing Washcloths was solved. It was full of washcloths. A couple even hung off the edge and were dripping creamy water onto the floor. I followed the path of the creamy drips and… found the Lake. And the Waterfall. And its source The River. And my newly purchased pint of organic cream was emptied.

Eli got points for TRYING to clean up the mess, but the minus points were stacked too high against him. After his second bath and change of clothes in as many hours, I got the whole story from him:

“I think I pilled it. (No-oo! Really?!) I drinked Mommy’s coffee ‘n then I put some honey ‘n then I poured some cream in the tea milk and then I drinked a little bit ‘n then I put-put-put-put-put-put-put-put honey in it ‘n then I put the honey in my mouf.” (He stutters sometimes because his mouth has to keep moving in order for his brain to kick back in gear.)

In other words, he drank some of my tea, then added honey, then drank more, added more honey and a little cream (which he then “pilled”), finished drinking my tea, then sucked on the honey bottle while attempting to clean up his mess the best way he knew how. It usually takes me a drawer-full of washcloths to wipe up a pint’s worth of cream too.

Now I hear exhortations to moms to always be one step ahead of your kids, but honestly, how could I have done this? My little tea ceremony has heretofore been quite safe in its place on the kitchen table. Why? Why? Why? He knows better!

During his bathtime he practiced blowing his nose into the tub then watched his streams of snot undulate in the water. He really is a different creature.

Christmas

Posted

After months, I have finally updated some photos.  Nayah has more teeth, so she looks a lot different, and the preschoolers were in a wedding, though there were surprisingly few good shots of them (mostly due to Elisha’s lack of cooperation).  Also, for James’s benefit, I included the picture of Eli wearing multiple pairs of underwear.  This was after the backwards shirt and “nunnerwear” hat, unfortunately, so the photo catches him wearing fewer than I had mentioned in the blog.  I discovered the be-briefed bottom of his when he took his shirt off to turn it around.

If a Little Is Good, More Is Better.

I’m back on this subject again. I grew up with all girls. Every day of Eli’s life, I go through a little bit of culture shock.

Yesterday he repeatedly jumped while in the bathtub so that he could fall and slip all over its hard porcelain-ness. This was never an activity we sisters, or Hannah, had ever thought to do at bathtime. We tend to like to keep our limbs less bruised.

Eli was filled with joy tonight when Cousins Paul and Lucas came over. BOYS! They would pull themselves up next to the couch and totter. He would delightedly shove them over, then jump on top of them and try to wrestle, generally by sitting on a face (sorry, Cindy). Even though the twins are just a few pounds lighter than Eli, they are two years younger, and not as used to exuberant body slams as he is.

This morning he and Hannah each had an empty wrapping paper tube. He used his to club her violently, usually in the head. Until this happened, she had used tube as a pony, a princess staff, and a pole to move the ceiling fan. She wept (think dramatic tears, not ordinary crying) when he hit her, because he had done so “on purpose” (duh!). I told her to hit him back. Eli grinned when she did this (she spoke his love language!), and tried to sword fight with her, but since she is a princess and not a warrior, she dissolved into tears again and would not fight. So I took her place and beat Eli into giggles.

My dad has a philosophy (or syndrome) that makes my mother crazy: If a little is good, more is better. For example, if one vitamin per day is good, five of them at once are obviously better. If vegetables need a teaspoon of olive oil to bake, a cup might be better. If the lawn fertilizer directions require only a scoop, the entire contents of the package would be better.

I have recently noticed that Eli has inherited his grandfather’s very same disease. If three sheets of toilet paper are good, the entire roll is better. He is responsible for the emptying of so many plump, full rolls of toilet paper that we had to begin spanking him for it. Our toilet backs up easily enough already, and there is no reason to go through a roll and a half per day with the number of people we have living here.

If one pair of underwear is good, wearing every pair is better. Then he has an accident, and in one fell swoop, no clean underwear left. Our stern admonishments to him (with direct eye contact) to NEVER do this again are having NO EFFECT. We have to graduate to inflicting pain in order to make an impact.

If a pump of soap is good, the entire half-a-liter bottle is better. And I had thought that bottle would last our entire family till at least May of 2009, not barely till the end of the month!

If one scoop of milk into his half-full juice cup is a little yummy, then the entire rest of the cereal bowl into that juice is even better.

If buckling yourself before the trip is good, then unbuckling and re-buckling yourself for the duration of the trip is even better.

If taking one set of clothes out of the dresser is good, emptying all of the dresser drawers is better.

I once heard a story of a young boy who took a hammer to all the window wells around his house, shattering every last one of them. When his distraught parents asked him why, he said, “You never told me not to.”

I think his name must have been Eli.