Tuesday, March 5, 2013

all I need to get by.

Playtime (ok, all the time) at our house is either:

 A. watching Harper run around and holler things at us - "Run! Chase me! Tickle Me! Be a Ninja Turtle! Here's your stick! Watch out! I'm going to 'sharp' (stab!!) you! Raaaaaah!!" while Henry trails behind or runs in the opposite direction

 or

B. refereeing two angry badgers who both want ALL THE TOYS.

or

C. Harper building huge, intricate something which Henry points to, "Oooh!" then crushes with his powerful baby fists of destruction.

plus any combination of at least two of the following:

giggling, whining, crying/hostile meltdowns, furrowed brow life lesson warnings in my adult voice, belly laughing, scream laughing (this is a form of communication only tolerable to other 3 year olds and their own parents - not other parents.)

This morning, we had a solid two hours of ALL THE TOYS + whining/crying/furrowed brow.

To people without children, nothing looks worse.

To people with children, the grocery store with both of them in their current state is at least 200% worse.

And yet..

After many bribes (cookies), shoe recovery expeditions (all of us must go! leave no man downstairs! by the way, carry us both! I'm scared to walk up!)  and threats (nap), we piled into the car and, like only three mortal enemies chained together against their will can, eventually stumbled into Harris Teeter.

By the grace of God, I wrangled them into an empty race car cart and quickly(!) began the disinfecting process as there is a 3 second window between Henry being introduced to a new environment and biting the dirtiest thing in said environment.

Amid protests from the peanut gallery  - "Do not wash me! I do not want to be washed with the wipe! Don't wash Henry either! He hates it!" - we spied out the cookie bin (at this point, let's pretend that all that disinfecting wasn't for naught, as I politely select a fresh pastry paper and hand both children a cookie from the COMMUNAL COOKIE BOX) and soldiered on.

As I selected 10 assorted boxes of pasta (buy two get three free! if you have a child, what night do you NOT eat pasta? no night!), I spied the rustling of limbs in my peripheral vision (never look totally away. never.), and said, "What're y'all up to? I hope you aren't thinking about standing up."

'No. Just huggin' and kissin' Henry.'




11 comments:

  1. I could've written this blog. This is my life. Especially the "carry us both up the stairs" part. Well, I couldn't have written it, only you are so good at that, but it could be about me and mine. lol.

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    1. gah. It's everybody's life. and what is that stairs thing?!

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  2. Oh man, I was at the grocery store last night. I had Gavin strapped to my back, and Laura racing from aisle to aisle in front of me. Only one moment of yelling (as she stabbed her fingers into the stew meat I was planning to purchase), but a whole lot of exhaustion on my part trying to wrangle her! The store is just nuts.

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    1. BAAhahaha! Stabbed her fingers into the stew meat! Yes! Just when you think you're getting out unscathed!

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  3. Replies
    1. I can't wait to hear stories about your two :)

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  4. Between you and Tiff, the stories that are heartwarming make me want to add another Jackson.

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  5. Sweet sweet Harper and Henry...

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  6. I can relate, Indy was really difficult 2000-2009.

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