Monday, April 2, 2012

What the Heck

Motherhood is a little bit like a terrifying tightrope act: one inch too far this way, and you are a helicopter parent who insists that her child, who shows no musical inclination, practices the piano four hours a day. An inch too far that way, and you are the crazy lady who never knows that her toddler is roaming the neighborhood in a messy diaper. Nuances, what are you gonna do?

Veevs is extraordinarily obsessed with the Warriors series right now (feral cats, oy vey!), so much so that when I went to tuck her in last night, she had all her bedding curled around her like a cat nest. Also, she is decorating her room with pictures of cats from the internet that she has colored herself, and also with the manuscript of her own feral cat novel. I have determined not to interfere until she starts licking herself.

The other day I couldn't find Spe (7 years old, lest you think this is the toddler mentioned above) anywhere in the neighborhood. I noticed that his scooter was parked in front of one of our neighbor's house, but they weren't answering (mostly because they weren't home). After checking all his regular haunts, I returned to their house to discover that when they hadn't answered, he had checked to see if the door was unlocked (it was), walked in, settled down to play the Wii, and refused to answer the door when I came knocking. I quickly escorted him off the premise with a rather scathing lecture on breaking and entering.

Jakers' goal in life is to spend as much time out of doors as is humanly possible. I don't know exactly where he is pretty much 95% of the time. Also, on being told that it is called POTTY TALK, because it is only acceptable to say IN THE POTTY, he has taken to running to the bathroom to shout things like POO! PEE! BUTT! DIAPER FACE! It's like a weird form of Tourette Syndrome. I just roll my eyes, because really, what else was I expecting?

Logan's cuteness absolutely overpowers my need to discipline. He can get away with ALMOST anything, as witnessed by the fact that he recently emptied all of his drawers over the balcony, and I just half-smiled at his wicked grin, and then vaguely said, "Oh, no, honey, don't do that." He went back for more and more loads and I started laughing each time they hit the ground. I was already going to have to clean it up, after all. Also, he has just started to say, "What the heck?" with the most delicious upturn of phrasing on 'heck'. It slays me. Seriously.

And of course, there's Caleb, who just laughs at everyone. He is perfectly content as long as he is fed and freshly diapered. A delight! A darling! And yes, a December-born tax deduction. He gets more perfect all the time, no?