Thursday, January 23, 2014

Get Back Inside, You Don't Have Any Pants On!

I once had a patient in my care who often referred to his three children as "the Taliban." Now before you go all crazy, cut the guy some slack, he really was one of the funniest individuals that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He was merely drawing the similarities between his three kids and the fundamentalist terrorist group and believe me, there were plenty. 

The reason I'm sharing this story with you today is because I never really understood what he meant until I had two little boys of my own. 

Back when I was a wet-nosed newlywed, childless, fifteen pounds skinnier and fresh off the plane from our most recent DINK-y (Dual Income No Kids) vacation, I would sit in the chemo infusion bay with him and laugh until my sides hurt at the stories he would tell regarding his kids' antics. 

"Surely, nobody's kids are that crazy," I would think to myself. I was certain he was embellishing on more than one account just to garner an extra laugh or two. "Who was watching those poor kids every day and where was there mother?" I couldn't help but ask myself.

I was so naive.  

With two little boys of my own, I can say without a doubt, from his lips to God's ears, he was simply sharing his life. The day to day shenanigans that occur between the early morning wake-ups and the much-anticipated evening bath time. And to answer my own question, the kids had one of the most attentive mothers you could ever imagine. Supervision was always there. 

Let me be the first to tell you, you can have all the supervision in all the land and your kids will still sneak out the back door and run down into the yard without their pants on. What was lacking was heightened security. Video monitors. Heat-seeking, night vision goggles. 

Living with two little boys under the age of 4 is like living with two little life hacks. If only I could stop scrubbing Sharpie from the walls or hiding all of the toilet paper in the house long enough to really witness and embrace their ingenuity. Undoubtedly I could learn a thing or two from them.

Like how to reach forbidden objects on the kitchen counter simply by scaling the drawer pulls in my bare feet. 

Or  how to use your brother as a level in order to pry open the childproof cabinets or to carefully extricate the cookies from the cookie jar without making a single sound.

Thanks to my youngest child, we've had to put a lock on virtually every door, cabinet and closet on the first floor. For instance, there's a lock bar on our sliding glass door that prevents the door from being slid open. Why? Because on more than one occasion, I've caught him pants-less and barefoot making a run for it, only after he's unlocked the door and used his body weight to push it open.

I can only imagine what our neighbors must think. 

Our pantry has a lock on it as well, not because we have to limit food intake but because if forced to pick up another canned good or spice jar scattered throughout the house, I would surely lose my mind.  And don't go telling me, "just teach him "no!" or "Buy one of those doorknob locks!" It's an accordion door, so there, and at 18 months old, he's not exactly fluent in "No." 

Our entryway coat closet is also under wraps because... shoes! Oh my god, the shoes. 

Once again, it's my youngest who has an obsession with putting not only his shoes on his feet, but my shoes, his brother's shoes and his father's shoes on his feet as well, and traipsing throughout the entire house with them, often leaving a discarded pair or two in his wake.

The solution? Lock all of the things. Ever. That is, until I can figure out how to clone myself and be in two or three places at once. 

Brushing the dog's hair with his brother's toothbrush. Working as a brotherly team to dismantle the baby gate (one holds the gate steady, the other pushes open it of course), dipping the freshly hanged dish towels in the dog's water bowl, hanging from the handle of the dishwasher so as to use one's body weight to pry it open. 

Waiting until your brother is (finally!) sitting and playing quietly by himself on the couch, only to then charge up to him, smack him across the face and jump on his head. Thus starting World War 472.    

So yes, The Taliban? I get it  now. I just get it.    

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  1. Bahaha. As I am shaking my head yes to most of these points (except the world war whatever fights, currently only one toddler) it amazes at how fast they learn, how quick and efficient they are and how much distruction they can manage in such a short time. Oh my. Half the time I just have to laugh with her! Cannot WAIT to hear the antics when baby #3 comes into the picture. Course I am still waiting (im)patiently for m#3's fabulous name. - Also dying to know if you sister-in-law is going to have a boy or girl. I know I'm crazy and impatient....

  2. Stop spying on my family and sharing what you see on the Internet! ;)

  3. This just made me smile and nod. Yes, this. Maybe not exactly this, but with a 2 and 4 year old boy at home already with boy #3 on the way, I feel ya mama!

  4. Yes! We have the taliban here too, and now my third son, age 2, can unlock every child safety lock there is. It's a nightmare. Cute nightmare.

  5. hahahaha. i smile. from ear to ear. because you wrote it in a way that makes me truly appreciate the things that can be such an annoyance from day to day. silly kids.
    love you!

  6. Oh Lordy! Won't 3 boys be fun for us?! I can't believe you didn't need a pantry or sliding door lock with C! We have both already!

  7. I have 5 boys. Life is always an adventure around here. Thankfully I also have 5 girls. They help mellow me out after a crazy day with the boys ;)

  8. Oh I can so relate!!! It's like a world war in our house almost every day... I don't think you listed one thing my kids don't do on a daily basis! We have a 4 yr old 2 yr old and 6 mo old... All BOYS! Lord help us all :) I love the silently sitting 2 yr old eating a snack getting attacked for no reason by the 4 year old :) Your blog cracks me up!

  9. Dude. I get this x1000. Bennett was my escape artist. At the ripe age of TEN MONTHS OLD, he somehow unlocked the front door (when we were living at our old apartment), opened the door, and left. Well, he crawled away because at the time, he wasn't even walking yet. To say I was in hysterics when I finally find my baby crawling around the hallways in the apartment building... by himself... is an understatement. He also figured out how to open every single cupboard, door, closet in the house. So our house is basically fort knox. But I'd rather that, than feel like I can't turn my back for a single second. Luckily, Easton isn't quite as bad about getting into stuff... but man, 2 boys has pretty much done me in. But of course, I love their little guts and all their shenanigans.

  10. Youngest (not yet fully walking) grabs the car keys and opens the front door, shouting, "CAH CAH CAH!" Oldest "sweeps" the kitchen, using the broom to knock things off the fridge and cabinets. Youngest pulls EVERY SINGLE picture book off the shelf, then when I am picking them up, pulls the HVAC vent out of the floor and tries to stuff brother's $45 double-wide stride-rite down the vent. Entropy is not just a chemical phenomenon, it's the state of chaos in which the mom of house of boys shuffles toward the coffee maker every day.

  11. This just makes me laugh because it is so true! I never dreamed how much I would love being a boy mom and some of those crazy shenanigans are why I do!

  12. Its not just boys... I have one girl and I'm pretty sure she is running a sleeper cell out of the playroom.


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