He fills the longing soul with good things. Ps. 107:9

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Corin, Corin, Corin!!!

I haven't blogged all year. Though I have missed it desperately, I have been focused on other things.  Good things.  And I can't wait to get back to consistent blogging.  But I need to break the silence for a moment to share the delights of training my 2-year-old boy.  I simply must have some understanding ears.



A few weeks ago, I remember saying to someone that Corin (our two-year-old) really isn’t a terrible two. He was delightful and sweet and loved to stand quietly by the chair and play with his cars.  And when would he discover the “terrible” part.  Friends.  That day has come.  My doom has descended.
I am literally amazed at the havoc that tiny little creature with the huge head can wreak upon this house.  Here are some examples from the last few days.  And this is just the stuff I can REMEMBER!  They say you blog out the really traumatic stuff from your memory.


Everyday: 
He  COMPLETELY dumps any container of toys/legos/cars/underwear he can get his hands on. Repeatedly.  He often has his 5, 7, and 9-yr old siblings in tears because they work so hard to keep their rooms clean and then he comes in and blasts it in 15 seconds.  We are trying to bind together as a team to catch him in the act but he's a sneaky little devil.

 The only way to keep him contained would be to lock him out of every room.  But that’s impossible.  We’d have to lock him out of the house!  (Hey. That’s not such a bad idea.  The weather has been beautiful and you know what they say about little boys needing lots of time outside in the fresh air. Why didn’t I think about that before?)

Sunday; 
  • pooped on the floor 3x before we could make it to Sunday school or get a diaper on him.  David was walking around the house saying…."everybody watch where you’re walking!  There’s poop somewhere!"
  • Wrote in pens (more than one color) all over himself and a pillow 
  • (he had already pen- decorated David’s favorite chair, another pillow case and a  brand new $20 book I had purchased for a student.)

Monday: 
  • Dropped cheerios all over the floor…then dropped the bag upside down! 
  • Dumped a whole bag of corn chips right in the middle of the kitchen floor,
  • COMPLETELY emptied caiden’s clothes out into the middle of the floor. We’re talking floor covered with clothes.  At least I’ve been simplifying and he doesn’t’ have as many clothes to dump. There’s always something positive to see, I guess.
  • Dumped  everything off the table in my room…
  • dumped every drawer out of my “littles” holder  (safety pins, hair pins, tiny little things that need saved.)  Dumped.
  • Dumped the DVDs on the floor.  Including my very expensive exercise DVDs.  I’m running out of high places to put things.
  • Dumped the change box.  It’s a big box.  With a LOT of change.  Thankfully, even with my hearing loss I heard the dump begin and I high-tailed it into my room before the whole entire thing got dumped like the other day.  I usually hide it, but had pulled it out as the kids were leaving for school to give them some missions money and hadn’t put it back yet.  He’s an evil little creature, I’m telling ya.


Tuesday (today): 
  • dumped a whole pile of napkins – spread over the floor. 
  • Tore up my runner’s world magazine (when I found it and he could see that things weren’t maybe going to end well for him, he said…It’s dust a doke, mommy…dust a doke!    (just a joke)
  • Tore the adorable tongue off of Kayla’s beloved lunch sack frog puppet that she was going to sell at school.  Ripped that thing right off without a moment of remorse.
  • later  - on his own - he dragged the kids’ vacuum into the kitchen, plugged it in, turned it on, and began to clean for exactly one second.  It’s the thought  that counts.  I guess. 
  • And it’s only 10:23 in the morning, people!  My ears are nervously perked when I’m in another room…just waiting for the sound of dumping.  Or the sound of happy silence.  I have learned to FEAR happy silences.

I told David (I should say..I TELL him.  Repeatedly.  With wild hand gestures.)  That the ONLY  way for me to keep up with that child is to follow him around all day, just cleaning up the wake he leaves behind.


The other day, after Corin had yet another tail-training, Caiden said…Let me check his bottom.  (peeking).  He’s had a LOT of spankings today!  Yes.  He has.  ‘Fraid they ain’t working.  : )

At the beginning of the day today I could see we were in for quite another ride.  I walked through the house, showing him his massive messes and smacking his leg.  “You don’t do these messes…you understand me?”  And he would say…”understand me.” But I fear he does not.



A few of you are thinking…well, if she would just watch him closer or keep him occupied or keep things out of reach then he wouldn’t make those messes! The rest of you are laughing your tails off cuz you just   KNOW.   What.   I’m .  talkin’.   about!   Oh, how I love you for that.


And yes.  He has constructive things to do. (Maybe not enough. Maybe I should just sit with him all day and teach him Latin or something.)  And yes.  He has messes he’s “allowed” to make.  Even if I were able to muster up some parenting perfection today,  He seems to transcend all.  He is on a 2-year-old mission to make me work for my money.  Oh.  I forgot. I don’t get paid for this job.  I TURN DOWN jobs that pay a lot of money on a regular basis so that I can stay at home and train this child!  Would someone please check my forehead?

 



But all it takes is one of his special, sparkling looks with those too-big-for-his-head-blue-eyes and the too-big-for-a-baby- vocabulary and it’s alright gain.

All I have to do is hear him talk up a blue streak or sing in his bellowing voice or giggle deep from his little, round, pen-covered belly and I decide not to leave him in a basket on someone’s porch.  

Did I mention we're also potty training and passie-weaning?  Good times.

Gotta run. I hear a noise!!!!!


  
He has been sitting on my lap offering commentary on all of these pictures...referring to himself in the 3rd person.  "He is cwying?  He going to church.  He not wike dose cwose!  He got spanking!  What corwin doing?  He not sad!  He not cwying.  He wunning.  And he cwanky!  He sweeping.  He's a-sweep! (have you caught on to the fact that W's are L's?)

I can't quit squeezing and kissing him. He gives good kisses and hugs, too. Maybe I am paid, after all.

Now he's saying. "Mommy, I not want spankin!  NOT spankin!  I want down."  It's like his brain and his body are in a constant race to keep up with one another.  Oh. My. Goodness.  I just let him have a drink of my iced coffee sitting on my desk!!  Please. Someone tell me where I've placed my brain!  I might need an extra vitamin today.


Noon update:  Since this post was created,
  • We have played "airplane" repeatedly.  The more dangerous the ride, the better.  
  • We have played "smash" (in which we take turns SMASHING each other with pillows and tackles on the bed.  Followed by kisses and tickles.  Repeat until mommy is exhausted.)
  • He has made a flying LEAP off the bed and landed with head banging on hard floor.  After  a few seconds of mommy's kisses (but NO TEARS) he jumped up to go for another round of smash.  
  • We have attacked the frogs taking over our kitchen.  Huge, imaginary frogs which require a lot of stomping and yelling to exterminate.
  • I have caught him quietly pulling the books off the bookshelf. Thankfully I happened to walk through the room and caught him in the act only about 5 books into the endeavor. I made him clean it up.
  • I have caught him spreading Nutella on his foot.  Spreading.  With his hand or a spoon.  I'm not making this up.
  • He is currently gnawing on a peanut shell and spitting the contents out violently to get to his precious peanuts.  

  • Caiden arrives home from kindergarten. Goes to my room.  Comes back to the kitchen and announces.  "Mommy.  Your room smells like poop."  I just stood there an laughed like an idiot.  If you don't get the humor, this post is not for you. : )  (I feel compelled to explain lest you think there are sanitary issues.....There are three diapers in the diaper pail on their way to the big trash.  But the can they are in got stopped right outside my door. Can't imagine what could have possibly distracted me.  They have since been disposed of in the big trash.  All is well and fresh-smelling again.)
Makes a mommy wonder what other pleasures the day may hold.



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