A day in the life of Stacy

Painting a picture

These are some things that were said at my mom's house this past week. She had Elliott's two oldest three days this week and invited me and mine over so they could all frolic together.
Mom: "Cole, stop licking Gabe's face."

Cole: "Did Dizabel poop?"
Me: "Yes. Do you want to see?"
Cole: "Dits a big one."

Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"
Cole: "Why."
Cole: "Why?"

Me: "Why do you think?"
Mom: "Because I said so."
Mom: "Because everyone gets a turn."
Mom: "Because I said so."
Mom: "Just because, now eat your food."

Isabel: "Puppy, woof, woof."
Isabel: "Wibbit, wibbit, wibbit." followed by some hopping.
Olivia: "uh-oh."

Gabe doesn't talk, but he does say "da" sometimes, but mostly he spends his day screaming his head off. The glory is that it can be any reason at all for him to scream. If he's hungry, thirsty, doesn't want his pacifier but you tried to give it to him, if he needs to poop, if he has poop in his pants, if I leave the room, if he's bored, if he's alone, if he's tired, if he just woke up, if he wants you to look at him, if he wants the water turned on in the tub, if he wants to hear the scream echo in the bathroom, if he is really close to my ear so it will echo in my brain. His only real happy place is when he and Isabel are in her room with the door closed playing by themselves, or running around my mom's backyard. Both are adorable and if I could leave him there forever, I think I would. My mom turned him loose in the backyard with Cole. He just ran down the hill as fast as those short, stubby legs would carry him. Every once in a while, he would look back up the hill to make sure no adults were present and keep running until he got to the holy grail of kiddie playtime, the rock pile. I was watching all of this from the sliding glass door, ready to pounce. He is just totally insane. Gabe makes Isabella look perfect. He has me so crazy some days that I just hand him to Todd as soon as he comes through the door, like, "This is yours." and go take a shower and enjoy a moment of piece and quiet. I hate doing that to Todd, but he only sees them two hours a day anyway. I can see why people think thier kids are ADHD. Gabe just wants to run and scream and break things. Just to be passive aggressive, I put him in his crib, then I build a tower with all 70something peek a blocks in the window so all the glorious light shines through them, then I leave him to take his nap. Yeah there's a tower, a great big one that you can't touch, sleep tight. Whatever gets me through the day.

posted by Stacy @ 2:39 PM