Derek called to tell me that he had just gotten back from lunch with our friend Laura. It seems that her nearly two-year-old has been giving them a run for their money, too.
I had been starting to believe that we were the only people with crazy children. I know it's not true, but sometimes it feels this way. In fact, Nathan just got dropped off from school yesterday with a comment that he had bitten another child in the class. There are only eight children in his class. He has bitten three of them. Which means 50% of the class since he clearly can't get in trouble for biting himself. When I asked him why he bit poor victim number 3, he yelled, "it was MINE, Mommy."
Um, no, it wasn't. It wasn't yours. I'm pretty sure of that since we don't take anything to school with us. I'm pretty sure it was the school's. Whatever it was. But back to our friend.
It appears that just before Christmas, Baby Girl hopped over not one but two gates around the Christmas tree and her mother only realized this as she heard her glass ornaments shatter against the wall. It seems that Baby Girl was throwing the ornaments because she liked the sound they made as they hit the wall. And then there were the heirloom fabric ornaments that she attempted to flush down the toilet a few days later after filling the bowl.
K: Tell me you didn't laugh.
D: It was funny.
K: No, it's not funny.
D: Oh, it's funny when it's not your kid who is doing it.
They had discussed failed nap times and nearly snapping and slowing feeling like you are losing your mind. I felt this conversation was wasted on my husband. He usually makes it until 20 minutes into bathtime before bed before he starts freaking out because the boys have started this really awesome game of sliding down the back of the tub at the same time to see how big a splash they can send into the far wall before the wave veers over onto the floor.
And I don't even do bathtime. I guess that's because by 7:15, I'm already rocking in a corner, babbling inconsolably. At least today I'm not the person who is mourning her Christmas ornaments. We may be a small band of parents of ill-behaved, mischievous children but we know how to stick together. Now would be a good time to tell me your best story of "spirited" behavior by your child. I could use the company. Go on.