Thursday, November 12, 2009

I Need To Clarify. . .

It has come to my attention that one of my sons, ahem, is spreading some not so nice rumors about my parenting skills, and I must clear the air.

A little background info: With Joshua I always felt in complete control. With JCT, not so much, but, I still felt like I had a bit of control over what he would say or do. With Elijah, no control whatsoever, no. none. nada.

For Example: Someone might walk up to my sweet Lijah boy and say, "You are so cute!!!" And, he might turn around with an unfriendly face, hold out his hand like a crossing guard, and say "STOP!"

Yes. He does this sort of thing, regularly.

And, if you know me, you know that even if I am in the middle of active labor, having a long, painful contraction, and you walk up to me and say, "Hi, Erin, how are you? Do you prefer jelly beans or jelly bellies?" And, even if I am thinking that this is not a good time to ask me about candy preferences, I would smile and say, "Both!" Because that is how I was made. You always smile, and you are always nice.

But, not my Lije. And, try as I may, I cannot make him be any way other than the way he is. But, if you know him like I do, then you know that underneath that stern, "STOP!" is a silly smiling heart. It is all a game to him. He likes to act all tough and mean, but under it all he is a silly willy little man. I always tell people that his bark is much, much worse than his bite. He is a unique combination of aggression, passion, and preciousness.

I digress. . .

So, he was in his 2 y/o Sunday school class, and the teachers were discussing being thankful. "What are you thankful for?" they asked the children. No volunteers. So, they asked, "Are you thankful for your Mommy?" And, what did my sweet 2 y/o say? My sweet 2 y/o who I cuddle and bathe and love and hold and rock and sing to and read to and push on the swings and make cupcakes for and kiss his boo-boos and smile when he tee tees, what did that sweet son of mine say?


(And, he could have just left it at "NO!" but he did not, he had to add. . .

"No, my mommy locks me in the house!"


No, I have not nor will I ever lock my children in the house nor out of the house nor in their room for that matter!!! What is up with that?

Well, I'll tell you. Reminiscent of this. . .

It was about two weeks ago now, and I had just picked up JCT at preschool. I was hauling everybody and everything from the van to the house. It was nap time, and I was ready for a little peace. I had Erik Daniel on my hip (thankfully). I took my first load of things inside ~ diaper bag, etc., and everyone followed me into the house. I set my things down and headed back to the van for a second load of things ~ Erik Daniel still on my hip and JCT at my side talking nonstop about all that happened at preschool that morning. As I am shuffling through bags and mail in the passenger seat of the van JCT comes up to me and says. . .

"Elijah locked us outside."

Not again, Lord, not again. Will all my children have to lock me outside?? I forget about the bags in front of me and head straight for the backdoor. I check it. It is locked. Elijah's little red-headed self is smiling his silly, cheesy grin, proud of himself.

"Open the door," I say. Well, he tries, and he can't. I keep asking him over and over. He keeps trying, but can't seem to do it. So, I go look for the spare key. . . not in it's hiding place. My cell phone is in my diaper bag inside the house. We try the other doors ~ with the hope that one of them will be easier for him to unlock. Nope. For a good 20 minutes, I stand there trying not to panic. I wanted to go to a neighbor's house and use her phone, but I didn't want to leave my 2 y/o alone. I knew he was scared, so I stayed and eventually he figured out how to unbolt the door.

Now nearly every time we come home from anywhere, he says as I am unlocking the backdoor, "Mommy, I pwomise not to lock the door. I pwomise, Mommy."

So, there you have it. I was not the one doing the locking ~ Lijah was. And, the funny thing is that things like this happen so routinely around our home that I'm not even sure if I told Erik about it right away. My life is crazy, crazy, crazy!!! But, I wouldn't trade it for anything! He assigned me my portion and my cup, and I love it!!!!!!


picturesofhisgrace said...

I love, love, love this post! It made me smile! You need to ask Deana B. about a certain little boy locking us out of the house. She had to go to the ER to get the house key from Kevin. I think that is how the story goes if my memory is correct. What would our lives be like without stories like this? Love you and your sweet family!

Sara said...

Hee hee! Gotta love it.

Tyna said...

Snicker! I am sooooo with you! Boys!!!!

HW said...

I like that you know your little one's heart. My son is eighteen and has a deep gruff sounding voice. He is also a man of few words. But I know his heart. He is a gentle giant. Sometimes, his dad will gently scold him for being rude to me when I had taken no offense at all for what he had said or how he had said it. I get him. I get his teasing ways and his way of loving.
We mamas know our boys.
So glad you are all safe and sound inside the house.

Rachel said...

When I was that age my Sunday School teacher came up to my mother at church and said the following: "If you won't believe everything you hear about me from Rachel I won't believe everything I hear about you."
My mom laughed and agreed and never did find out what on earth I had been saying in class. :) You're not the only one apparently.

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Hi! I live in a sweet country home overflowing with love, laughter, and little ones. I have been blessed to journey these days beside a man that I love, respect, and admire. He is my soul-mate and best friend. Together we are seeking to raise our seven children to be lovers of God, to be wise and discerning, and to be all that our sweet God created them to be. I am in the goldfish and cheerio stage of life, but I am keenly aware that these days are slipping right through my hands. This blog is my attempt to keep our memories safe for years to come.


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