He insists on shadowing me around the house all day (which is great because he's at an age where if I don't know where he is, he's definitely getting into trouble). One morning while I was getting ready, I thought he left the room, only to glance out the door to find his little feet poking up out of the bath tub.
Not sure how he decided the tub would be the best lounging spot for the morning, but his positioning in this empty tub kept him occupied for at least 5 straight minutes.
Grandma's house is on a busier street than where we used to live, so we were sure to set up some strict boundaries for the boys to stay within. Can you guess from the picture what one of their boundary markers is?
They have very strict instruction not to pass the light pole. On the day I hammered our front yard rules into their heads, they tested the boundaries in every way possible to see what they could get away with. I remained strict and called them out when they crossed the lines. They finally took me seriously and obliged to my boundaries. When they realized they couldn't get away with crossing the lines, they chose to live vicariously through leaves as they stood on the very, very edge of where they were allowed to go and let the wind blow the leaves down the street to places their little feet would (hopefully) never tread. And then I immediately feared their teenage years.
I will say, after their initial testing of determining the boundaries and my seriousness about it, they have since been perfectly obedient and respectful of our front yard rules. We may need to institute a new rule about spying on neighbors. They spent a good hour darting from hiding spot to hiding spot, spying on our neighbors one afternoon. The boys were a little disheartened when the neighbors were getting ready to leave and waved goodbye to them. They were sure they had gone unnoticed, but the goodbye wave assured them they hadn't been quite as sneaky as they had hoped. Meanwhile, nobody caught me spying on all of them the whole time from the window! Take a lesson from Mama, kids!
Okay, totally unaffiliated plug (but Walmart, if you want to sponsor me, I accept): Walmart free pick up for groceries! I literally point and laugh at everyone I see grocery shopping ever since I converted to grocery pick up. It will change your life.
When Eli joins us for grocery pick up, he insists on helping load the groceries in the car. One morning he abruptly hit the deck for some push ups while they were grabbing our order so his muscles would be pumped and ready to lift all the heavy bags.
Lincoln's favorite bathroom toy. Besides the floor of the bath tub.
Lincoln's favorite kitchen toy, my computer. This is often how we get transcribing done when I still have some work to do and Lincoln is awake.
Different kids, same story. The obsession with reaching out to slide their hands across the fence while being strolled is still an irresistible urge that reaches all generations.
Madison was over one morning while I was finishing getting ready. She found me in the bathroom and kept pretending to do her hair with me, but then would get embarrassed any time she noticed me watching her. It was cute.
Eli has really taken to soccer. Apparently a group of kids play soccer every day at recess, with Tyson ruling the pack because Tyson is the best soccer player in the world (according to certain 6-year-olds). Eli went through a 2-week period of running into the house every day after school and jumping straight into his soccer gear to spend the whole evening trying to get skills as good as Tyson's.
As this obsession started, he had a hard time grasping why he couldn't kick the soccer ball in the house. We had a constant back and forth of me telling Eli to go outside, him kicking the ball in the house, me telling him to go outside louder, him kicking the ball in the house again, me chasing him around the house threatening to take the ball away, him telling me, "Mom. If you're not going to build me a soccer course, I'll play wherever I want in this house."
Lincoln's signature move is to carefully and neatly stack whatever kitchen tupperwares are within his reach.
If he's not doing that, you can find him scurrying around the front porch trying to kiss as many "punkys" as he can. He somehow got the impression pumpkins are there to be kissed? Maybe it's because when we brought them home, the older boys were so excited about them, they were hugging them and doting on them like they were their new pets. So the pumpkins kind of became part of the family. We spent all of October repositioning the pumpkins, hugging the pumpkins, carrying the pumpkins around the house, naming the pumpkins, and showing them off to all the neighbors. One little boy proudly kissed every punky every chance he could, and refused to go to sleep for his nap and for bedtime until he had waved out the window to his pumpkins to wish them all goodnight.
2 comments:
Such cute kids. Such fun stories. Love the spies and the kissing of the pumpkins.
Why was Madison cutely imitating you while you were getting ready when she doesn't do that when I get ready? Instead she insists on hanging all over my legs begging to be held.
Love the soccer course comment and the punkys and that picture of you and Lincoln transcribing is the best.
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