Sunday, January 10, 2010

Babies grow fast, Boys have tons of energy, and Be Nice is my mantra

My baby is 8 months old.  8 MONTHS.  This is crazy.  I lost time there somewhere.  She is pulling herself up, trying to crawl, scooting pretty effectively, and can charm the most grizzled of old men in lines at the store. She is still tiny though, so that is some consolation.  I can still cuddle her like a tiny baby.  She just started wearing 9 month clothes and many of her 6 month clothes still fit well enough.  And she coos brilliantly, of course.


I am updating this blog from my bonus room.  I am up here to keep the kids up here so my wonderful husband could load the dishwasher, take out the garbage and do general dinner clean up.  As I sit here on the large floor pillow, clickety, clacking along, the boys are running in relentless circles around me.  They are trying to see who can lap who and how many times.  E solves this competition by just shoving people over as he comes up behind them.  His brothers don't seem to consider him part of the competition, but no matter!


Sitting in the bonus room watching all this craziness amidst a million bits a pieces of toys makes me wonder.  Should I have them pick up the bonus room more often?  Should I purge the toys again?  I think we have too much.  I know we have much less than many families, but I hate the way it all gets piled up and forgotten as they move on to the next toy and the next.  I especially hate that there are lots of pieces to different sets that never seem to make it back together.  Games are the worst.  I don't buy games, puzzles or toys with lots of intricate "must go together to make it work" pieces.  Yes, I know the value of puzzles and games and putting stuff together. I LOVE puzzles.  I have an insane addiction to them.  But I have an aversion to having a stack of things no one can play with because it doesn't have all its pieces anymore.  What people buy is plenty and seems to balance just fine.


Because my boys are boys, I find myself repeating "Be Nice" over and over and over.  Definite mantra.  Toys fly towards heads, fists swing, bodies crash upon bodies, toys are snatched away, cruel words are spoken, tattles are wagged.  


"Be Nice"


I say it so much I wonder if maybe it's just background noise to my children now.


But then I'm watching a movie with E.
"Nice," he says as the villian returns to screen.
"He's not being nice, is he?"
"Nice," he repeats with a slightly familiar inflection.
Maybe background noise gets picked up once in awhile.