He sat down while practicing outfield because he didn't want to stand any more. He didn't want to wear his glove. He wore his glove like a hat. He couldn't be made to hustle for anything. I finally had to pass the baby over to Shae and get out there myself. Only mom, still in my work clothes. (which, mind you, was a tank top and jeans, but still. My red sandels had flowers on them.) The only way I could get him to cooperate was by promising a drink of Gatorade in between every single task to "power up". That, and by doing the rediculus preschool magic dance where you get horribly over enthused about EVERYTHING and cheer like a banshee.
Anyone else know what I'm talking about?
Anyway. The poor dads out there have to get some credit. They tried their best to keep him involved, but I could tell they just didn't know what to do with him. It seems he's gotten a certain paternal figure's personality quality where if he doesn't want to do something, there is nothing you can do to change his mind. While I hope he uses this aspect of his persona towards something useful, like saying no to drugs, it sure would be nice if he let up a little bit when it comes to team sports.
Or dealing with me. Child can have some ATTITUDE when it comes to dealing with me. When he doesn't like what I've said or done, he gets this face on him, points at me, and yells "I'm not gonna tell you again!!" Except he usually hasn't told me anything in the first place and I'm still gonna make him do whatever it was to begin with. There are times every day where I just don't know what to do with him.
But I love him so.
Yesterday morning they were both up at the shiny time of 6. Nothing like getting your day started with four little hands trying to catch the water while you shower. Mom wasn't coming until 7:20 and Luke was starved from refusing to eat his dinner the night before. So, I made buiscuits. I believe this is the first time we've ever sat down as a family before I left for work to eat breakfast.
Although, it only last 3 minutes. Luke took one bite of the buiscuit and was begging to get down. "I'm full Mom! Let's go pway!" I made him sit there with me for a couple of minutes instead. I know. So mean. But girlfriend ate a handfull of raspberries, a strawberry, a whole buiscuit, a tube of baby food, and drank her milk. That little lady puts away more food than her brother on any given day.
And my Evan girl? She took 6 steps the other night! I can't believe she's about to be a walker. Luke didn't walk till he was 15 months, so I thought I had plenty of time. Nope. All she wants to do is play with the big kids.
She was helping me cook the other night. She loves to help. And she loves her Baby. And she's started pointing at things saying "Dis? Dis?" So, I'm gonna have a talker and a walker before to long.
WHERE DID MY BABY GO?
This helps.
1 comment:
Jordan said he got a great hit at the end! I think he's one tough kiddo, anyone that survives a ball to the forehead and comes back to play another day is good in my book! See y'all Saturday.
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