I love my children. Let's just make sure that's clear.
Sometimes, they make me.nuts. Then I usually realize it's MY fault. They're crying, because they're hungry, they're screaming because they need me to put them to bed... you get the idea. Today was no exception. Crazy-driving = totally my own fault.
So, today, I knew we needed SOMETHING to do when Henry started climbing the furniture, the walls, and finally me. Problem was it was "nap" time. This means, Spencer sleeps, Henry watches his movie and I generally try to sit and read.
Today, Henry would have none of it. He wanted to run, skip, jump, and roll all over everything. MOSTLY just me.
It finally dawned on me, after, oh, an hour, of BEGGING him to stop, sit down and just rest, that he was bored, out of his mind. I was being driven insane because I'd kept him locked up for a week.
With all the potty-practice this last week, he's played outside very little. It was just too hard for him to remember to STOP playing, go inside and use the bathroom.
So, today, I relented. Once Spencer was up, we went out. I called a friend from church who lives just a stone's throw away, and we convened on the playground. What fun the kids had. I had to force a potty-break an hour in, but other than that, it was like releasing caged lions. They ran and jumped, and biked and threw balls, and wood chips and rocks like the world was ending.
So now I know, when my children start climbing me like a jungle-gym, it's TIME to release them from prison. Time off for good behavior and all.
Oh, and Spencer thinks cigarette butts are Q-Tips and kept sticking them in his ears. SO unbelieveably disgusting, I can barely think about it without gagging.