There's Got to be a Post in Here, SOMEWHERE!

In our house, "mischief" is spelled with a capital "D". In fact, J was doing a reading comprehension lesson the other day and had to ask me how to pronounce the word "mischievous" and what it meant. I offered a definition peppered with "D" stories. "You know how D likes to climb in the pantry and get out stuff? And how D likes to get ahold of the food coloring and poor it out on the table, and chairs, and his hands, and feet, and clothes? And how D likes to sneak into the bathroom and eat toothpaste? And how D likes to sneak into the bathroom and use everybody else's toothbrushes? And how D likes to sneak into the bathroom and float stuff in the potty...like other people's toothbrushes? (We may never brush our teeth around here again...you just never know where your toothbrush has been! In fact, Daddy couldn't even find his this morning! Fortunately for his fellow co-workers, he had a spare in his travel kit....whew!)

D has been caught with a bowl of cookie icing in one hand and the paintbrush from said icing in his mouth. He has been caught sipping on a pastry bag full of buttercream like it was a baby bottle. And he has been found with an open package of "Kool-Aid Singles" and a huge smile on his face.

The Evidence:




And just for fun, here he is after I removed him from the scene of the crime into the kitchen sink, and given him a thorough bath! (I just love that he is still small enough to take a bath in the kitchen sink!)



I've never had to deal with anything like this with the others. The closest thing I can think of was finding M lying on the couch one Saturday morning with a lollipop in her mouth, a stash of 3 more under her blanket, and the empty wrappers of 6 others stuffed in the sofa cushions! She has issues with sugar, but she freely admits it and that's half the battle, right?

But my little D...he comes out of his room in the mornings to find me enjoying the peacefulness of a house full of sleeping children, and he is just so precious! He squeals, literally squeals "MOMMA!!!" as soon as he comes around the corner and spots me. He runs, with arms out, repeating "Momma! Momma! Momma!" until he is tucked in a snuggly little ball in my arms. He will snuggle there for all of about 30 seconds before his mantra changes from "Momma!" to "MOKE" (D-speak for "milk"). He signs and shouts "MOKE! MOKE! MOKE!" until I peel myself up from the couch and take him to the kitchen for some milk. Finally, with his milk firmly in his little, baby, toddler hands, we settle ourselves back on the couch for some quality time together watching my recorded tv shows from the night before. (We are not normally home in the evenings, so I record my shows and watch them the next morning before the rest of the world wakes up.) He has a specific spot where he likes to sit, and he will tell me "my 'pot, my 'pot" until he is comfortably situated half on the arm of the couch, half on my hip, nestled in the crook of my arm. He still has those puffy morning eyes, and serious bed-head, but he is still too young for morning breath. I breathe deeply of the smell of him, and sigh a contented sigh of happiness...

That's how we started this morning, with D snuggled in his "'pot" watching CSI (the gross parts were past, it was just investigating now...)

Five minutes later, he is up! RUNNING through the house shouting, RUN! RUN! RUN! with no particular destination, just a desire to RUN! and SCREAM! I send him off to wake the dead other kids, and try to watch the rest of my show. After a few minutes, I notice that the SCREAMING! has stopped. The RUNNING! has stopped, and silence fills the house...uh-oh...

I first check his usual haunts, but no, both bathroom doors are safely closed. I then remember that I have cookie bouquets in the kitchen awaiting delivery later today...that's when the panic hits! As I race to the kitchen to save my cookies, I almost run right past him. My cookies are still safely on the counter. My precious little boy has found a different vice. He has the flour shaker and is making flour circles on the living room carpet. Pretty harmless considering the syrup, honey, peanut butter, food coloring, etc. that he could have gotten from the pantry and decorated the carpet with!

So, I give up my tv, and I put on his absolute favorite..."Signing Time" to which the squealing begins all over again!

There are times when I am sooooo grateful for this gift of a child in my old age...and then.......there are times when I ask myself, "What was God THINKING when he gave me this child in my old age!!!"

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Oh yeah, and because I KNOW you are curious...here are the cookie bouquets safe from harm! (These weren't orders, these were for the ladies at my husband's office, and for our church secretary in honor of "Secretary's Week". Nothing like LAST MINUTE, huh?)