Friday, November 16, 2012

The Sweetest and The Meanest

When Weston still laid on the changing table to be changed, his belly making up the majority of him, I use to sing to him as I would trace my fingers down his head, to his shoulders, the sides of his round belly, down his chubby thighs, and to his perfectly small toes. I would stare into his dark brown eyes and feel my heart about swell out of my chest when his red plump little lips used to thin out to a smile.

Where is Weston
Where is Weston
Here he is
Here he is
Such a handsome little boy
He feels my heart with pride and joy
I love him
I love him

I loved singing that to him. I loved how quiet the room was and how much it was all about soaking up who he was right there in that perfect little moment. I did it as much as I possibly could.

I still sing him that song when he allows me to rock him in the dark of his room before I’m ready to let him down for the night. Now, he claps and says “gin, mommy”. I hope I never forget the way his lips shape when he says mommy.

Special little moments are few and far between now-a-days. He is too busy trying to keep up with his brothers and dismissing me with a stern, “I do it”. He is a handful to say the least. He still completely lives up to his nickname he was tagged with ever since he became mobile, “THE Destroyer”. And, I have a feeling this will stick for him for quite some time.

Our days are filled with his heart melting every time the boys are going to go do big boy things with daddy. He doesn’t even wait to see if he will get to go or not. As soon as they get around to getting ready he is throwing himself to the floor in a pile of wailing tears.

He is constantly scooting kitchen chairs around the house to get whatever in the world it is he thinks he needs.
No, is not an option for an answer.
Food is usually thrown to the floor to let you know he is done.

He can spend hours making truck noises and scooting the truck of the day around everything in the house including my face.

He always wants to eat, mainly apples, and he always wants meeeulk even though that means juice or something else but don’t you dare try and give him water if he didn’t ask for it.
When the boys have their shirts off, he wants his off.
When they go to bed he insists he is staying in there with them.


He loves the bath and will not get out until the water is drained and you better not skip powdering his rear. Actually, he won’t let you forget.

Weston always lets us know he’s made a mess. “Mommy, speeeeult. Mommy, mess. Mommy, see. Mommy, boke.” With a “you really need to come take care of this” panic look in his eyes.

Last night, in fact, the house was a disaster and I couldn’t take it anymore. So, I started in the kitchen. As I’m doing dishes and we finally got the big boys in the shower, Weston was quiet as daddy watched tv. I had already kicked him out of the kitchen for climbing on the table and throwing everything to the floor right after I had cleaned that area. I mistakenly let the quiet go because I had too much to do and all I wanted to do was either relax on the couch if I could get away with it or go to bed. The Destroyer came around the corner with an empty bottle of syrup, “Mommy, boke” The lid was not screwed on so he was telling me it was broke. The immediate picture in my head was the pantry full of sticky syrup. I swiftly go around the corner thinking all sorts of cuss words in my head about the horrible mess I’m about to have to clean up in addition to all the other cleaning for the night. Oh, and he has now discovered that he can open doors by himself. This is not a trait he needed.

I opened the pantry door and found nothing. No syrup, nothing. You can probably imagine my surprise. As I was doing this he headed to the living room. I closed the pantry door and he came down the little hallway with a Tupperware dish that he loves to play with full of syrup. “Here, Mommy. Mommy, full.” WESTON! No way he opened that syrup lid and poured it in that dish without making a mess anywhere. But, I still couldn’t find the mess. He knew exactly what I was looking for and stepped to the side eyeing it like, “I know what you are looking for, but I ain’t sayin nuttin. She don’t see it.” I followed his eyes and there it was, syrup on the carpet. It didn’t seem like much, but as I was trying to get it cleaned up I could feel it was pretty soaked. It could have been much worse. Maybe he is getting better at his messes? I know, you’re kind of disappointed at the lack of mess, right?! Well I wasn’t.

He got mad because I took everything away, dumped the syrup down the sink (I considered pouring it back into the bottle) and went back to my cleaning while he grabbed one of my plants and tried to throw it on the floor out of his disapproval for him being in trouble. Mommy’s quicker than you think sometimes, buddy.

Our days are filled with little scenes such as this. But also, an hour prior he was sitting on my lap whispering that he loves me and turning his head to give me kisses without his eyes leaving the tv. He begs me to come sit down by him on the couch at least once a night and he won’t let anyone else sit on my “wap” but him. He’s the sweetest and the meanest. He keeps a reason alive for me to continue to workout so I’m not completely exhausted by him and so I can catch him as much as I can before his true destruction hits. But, I am so very thankful for all that he brings into our lives. There’s nothing sweeter than his I love you’s and waving goodbye’s. To hear him with his brothers and how they love to mother him is a true blessing. “Here, let Bubba do it. Want to come with Bubba? Bubba’s right here.” It’s awesome. And, completely makes up for the terror he bestows. I could stare at those deep brown eyes and perfectly formed little face for eternity.

1 comment:

  1. This post has me all teared up.
    He is an amazing kid who loves him some apples.
    I used to sing to Chunky too. But it was wonderwall by oasis.
    PS. The picture of your boys holding hands is priceless.



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