Monday, August 24, 2015

Stay Where I Can See You

Every child is born with their own unique kind of wiring. Before I had my own kiddos, I genuinely believed that if I fed them organic food, bought them board books illustrating classic works of art, and taught them baby sign language they would grow up to be philanthropic neurosurgeons. I had grand visions of herding my brood into the local library. There we would all sit and quietly read-occasionally glancing up and smiling over the the tops of our books at each other. Okay, okay. You know I can hear you snorting, right?  I get it. I'll give you a few minutes to catch your breath.  Just let me know when you're ready to move on.

I have been blessed with four young'uns. I'm not saying I'm Mother Hubbard, but I am only one player short of a basketball team. By the time my youngest son came around, I was feeling a bit big for my britches. I can honestly say I was probably that obnoxious woman at the bus stop passing out words of wisdom to "new moms". For this, I can only beg forgiveness and assure you, life has a way of doling out warranted irony.

 Look at this sweet face. This is my red headed munchkin. From very early on, he was what my kindhearted friends would often refer to as "high spirited" and "so energetic". His absolute saving grace was (and is) that there is not a single mean bone in his body.  He genuinely loves people and they love him. 

Don't let that smile fool you, though. He was what we always affectionately referred to as my "Line of Vision" child. As in, if he was not in my line of vision, there was gonna be bedlam. He had a crazy way of managing to destroy everything in his path. It was never on purpose, but it did happen with troublesome regularity. He was my risk taker. He was the reason I had poison control on speed dial and knew the E.R. physicians on a first name basis. He's also the reason I know you can eat Crayola watercolors like Necco Wafers and it won't poison you. A free fact from me to you.

But now he's older and things have settled down considerably. I can report he successfully enters and leaves all manner of stores without carnage. I don't have to always set my laser vision on him anymore.

Although, maybe I should pay more attention. This is a picture of him at the shore. I took it a few weeks ago. And I just realized something. He's wearing the same swimsuit I bought him when he was three years old. Don't believe me? Scroll back to the top of this post. I'll wait. 

See? *sigh It's the bus stop all over again.

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