So, we learned early on that Hudson has to eat as soon as he has decided he is hungry. This was true when he was a chubby little butterball and would begin screaming at the top of his lungs as soon as he caught the sight of his bottle out of the corner of his little eye . . . and, it remains true today. He is sometimes hungry and can’t even identify it, so I always have snacks on hand . . . just in case! This year, the boys have been waking earlier and earlier, and since I need to get Anna and myself ready in the morning before going downstairs for the day, Hudson has had to do some waiting. And, well, it has not gone well. So, we instituted a new plan: When Daddy leaves for work in the morning (which, by the way, the boys will tell you “Daddy is a hard worker. Daddy is a good worker” . . . and, it’s true. He is often seated at his desk by 6am. I am still drooling a tiny bit on my pillow at that time. Bless his heart!), he makes breakfast for the kids and sets it on the table. That way, when Hudson decides he is going to lose his mind if he does not eat in .02 seconds, he can just mosey his little strawberry-headed curly self on down the stairs and begin to indulge in the morning’s breakfast options. Usually the breakfast is a waffle and some kind of fruit. Last week, one day, Hudson came down and ate EVERYONE'S serving of strawberries. Me Yike Strawberries. And, well, today, he decided that he was not keen on the selection that Daddy had set out for him, so he decided to help himself. After calling down to Hudson several times to ask him what he was doing and hearing no response at all, I sent William down to investigate for me. William came up and said “Hudson has the milk, and he his eating Daddy’s cereal. The milk is on the floor.” Anna and I flew down the stairs, and we found this busy scene:
Hudson, staring at his mess, watching Murphy “help him” clean it up. (note: I like to keep my sewing machine on my table to remember that I own a sewing machine. Don’t be fooled into thinking I actually use it because it sits on my table. ha ha.)
The damage . . . not too bad, all things considered.
I wish I had taken a picture of the combination of chairs and stools that were in the kitchen to help him reach the milk from the top shelf of the fridge. I was literally telling someone the other day that I just have to be on top of these boys at all times. They are such rascals. My friend said she likes to let her kids play independently (so they go up to their rooms to play and just play in the house while she is generally around) . . . this is what happens with my independent children. Experimentation and a nice morning treat for Murphy (or Dog Dog, or Woo Woo (she is trying to say “woof woof” ). . . depending on who you are talking to!)
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And, the conversation of the week:
Hudson: How will Aunt Katie’s Baby get out of her tummy?
Me: When Aunt Katie and the doctor decide it is time for the baby to be born, God and the doctor will help get the baby out of Aunt Katie’s tummy and put the baby in her arms.
William: Mommy, what TOOLS will the doctor use?
Me: I don’t know, William. We need to go into school now.
HEAVEN HELP ME!
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PRAISE THE LORD TOMORROW IS FRIDAY! BRING IT ON.
1 comment:
Am I that friend who lets her kids play independently? :)
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