I had a moment of celebration the other day - it lasted 7 minutes. It was perfect, because it happened to be my 40th birthday. It was early morning, Hubs and I were getting ready, and my kids were both playing with each other in my daughter's room.
Nervous at the thought, I kept yelling down the hall to check on them, making sure C.C was keeping an eye on her brother. We are forever discussing the importance of keeping choking hazards out of reach with her, since Piercey puts EVERYTHING in his mouth right now. He fancies little pieces of whatever he can find, and she has shit all over her room. A terrible combination since it's a daily occurrence to find random crap squirled away in his chubby little cheeks. That morning, I would hear the occasional shout out, but only because C.C. (unnecessarily) freaks out when Pierce stands up and falls down. However, when I would ask, I was consistently reassured that everything was fine.
I had a few minutes of pure elation - it was happening - that time that all parents of multiple kids would tell me was why I needed to have two kids. "They will entertain each other" they would say. "Only children cling to you, more is easier," they would add. "Have more, they will take care of each other." they would insist. I pretty much felt they were all full of shit, but once I found out I was preggers with number two - I was pretty much banking on it for my sanity. That morning, I was silently doing the Carlton dance.
So now I am all dolled up - fab dress on for my 40th birthday day at work, hair curled, make-up "on-point" as my friend Ebony would say, and I am ready to go. Suddenly, I hear a scream. "What happened?" I yell as I book it down the hall in a full sprint.
I walk in to discover this...
Yes...that is my son with teal marker all over his - and especially around the mouth area. Yes, that would mean he would have been sucking on a marker for at least several minutes. And no...my daughter didn't think that qualified as behavior she should stop.
So here I am, dressed in gold for a golden birthday, and Hubs and I are simultaneously potato sack holding my son while SCRUBBING his face. I sure as hell hope there is truth in the "Non-Toxic" advertising on kids art supplies. It was...awesome. And proof enough that I cannot rely on my 4.5 year old to be the keeper of her brother, like, at all, ever.
So, sadly, I am back to being convinced that all those parents were full of shit. At least for now. I hold out hope that someday these two kids will become the other's keeper. In the meantime, apparently now I need to add marker pens to my list of things C.C. must keep out of reach. At this rate, we may just need to empty her room until Pierce is 5!
Foul mouthed, outspoken and pretty much an eternal realist.