We finished Jazzercise last Friday and Michael ran away from me on the way to the car. When I caught him I swung him high up over my head. “Whoa, baby, you’re about to be too big for me to do that,” I said. “What am I gonna do when you get too big for me to throw up in the air? Maybe Miss K__ will let me throw her baby up in the air.”
Nicholas pulled out his toy phone. “I’m gonna call her and ask,” he said, and proceeded to do so. Then he flipped it shut and said, “Mommy, Miss K__ said no, you can’t throw her baby in the air.”
Alex’s class is spending this fall preparing for the “wax museum,” in which they all choose a saint and make a costume for All Saints Day. Alex chose St. Michael, because he loves his baby brother and because, yanno, St. Michael is a bad@$$. He did a web search and chose this picture to fashion his wings after. Go on, click on it. I’m not allowed to paste it in, and you really need to see this picture.
Sometimes I wonder if the angels ever chuckle at our attempts to portray them.
Michael Mayhem Moments of the Week Tuesday:
- Locking me out of the house while I was putting Julianna on the bus. (Thank Heaven for key pad entry on the garage!)
- Helping himself to the pepper and shaking it all over the floor in an attempt to help me make chili
- Opening the bottle of Penzey’s vanilla and taking a nice big swig of it while my back was turned (well, at least he’ll sleep well tonight! I thought), followed up within one minute by…
- grabbing the cart of eggs and turning it upside down on the kitchen floor
- Rubbing copious amounts of soap in his eyes in the bathtub
You caught that all of that was in ONE DAY, right?
Which happened to be the same day that Christian was out of town, so I was flying solo. And the same day that Nicholas decided to grow horns and a tail again, after weeks of angelic behavior. (Well, let’s be honest. His wings have been tarnishing for the past five days.) Anyway. When he got crossed at bedtime, he started stomping his feet and banging plastic cups on the tub. Because I had three other kids to deal with, I elected to ignore it. “Mommy, I’m throwing a temper tantrum,” he explained with calm beyond anger.
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Get out of the tub.” I went to deal with a load of laundry.
No, no, no, that wouldn’t do at all. STOMP STOMP STOMP, big dramatic pause right beside me. “Mommy, I’m STOMPING!”
You all will forgive me if admit I just cracked up, right?
“Why are you LAUGHING?” he demanded, wounded.
“Because it’s FUNNY!”
More stomping ensued.
“Heaven-ee O God, beyond my wants, beyond my ears, from death into love.”
Stumped? Fit the words to this. (He sang this repeatedly yesterday afternoon, until Alex began screaming at him that it was annoying. Then they just fought about it.)
This week, both the bathroom scales and my heart rate monitor/calorie counter have stopped working. This is cause for some serious soul stretching for a type-A, monitor-everything-for-precision kind of gal like me.
Last Friday I was supposed to share some funnies from a car trip my sisters, one brother-in-law, and I took around our hometown after my grandmother’s memorial Mass. Of course I forgot by the time Friday rolled around. And I’m not sure they’d come across so much funny as in poor taste, anyway. So I’m not going to share unless you ask me. 🙂
Oh yes, how could I forget to share what you get when Michael gets hold of the iPad?
Now, back to your regularly-programmed madness…