Noah has been fun these days.
My little tornado thinks it is his job to destroy the house. Stop by any time of the day and this is what you will see...
Pots and pans on the living room floor
Plastic lids and containers scattered all over the kitchen floor, in the perfect spot to slip on
Toys...everywhere...ironically enough, not being played with
Full pop cans in the middle of the floor, that have been rolled around for awhile
Socks everywhere
Important papers that belong on the fridge, now wrinkled and slightly torn, somewhere under the couch
Magazines torn and left in pieces
Board books, that are made for babies so that they do not get torn, in pieces, usually in Noah's hands as he brings them to you to read, one page at a time
A tired me, standing in the midst of the mess, asking "Why, Noah, why?"
I used to read Real Simple for great organization tips. I have come to learn that the editors of that magazine in no way have little kids of their own. Sure, they may claim to have the perfect toy storage bins and ways to make a small room appear larger, but if they truly had little kids, they would simply write this...
"To all moms of young children-give up and try again in a few years."
I suppose that would not sell a lot of copies.
Anyway, in the midst of the destruction, Noah does have his cute moments. He loves socks. The other day, when I had just finished folding laundry (quite a task to complete with Mr. Tornado around), he grabbed the folded socks and decided that he had to have them all-at the same time. We went to get in the car to pick up Caleb from school and he would not leave the house without carrying his treasures.
Which is why I am still finding socks under the seats in the car.
He is trying so hard to communicate with us. He can say a few words, one being socks (shocking, I know). He eats absolutely anything in front of him. He is fearless and thinks he can keep up with Caleb. Currently, he resembles Rudolph, with a very red nose. He fell on the pavement and thought it was a good idea to stop his fall with his face.
I still cannot get this kid to watch tv. He will watch something if it is on in the van, but at home? Nope. Hence the destroyed kitchen while I cook. Apparently, breaking one of my favorite bowls to put vegetables in is more entertaining than Elmo.
And, finally, the boy is obsessed with his penis. Every time that I change a poopy diaper (which is A LOT), he giggles and tries to touch down there. The technique that I find that works is to hold his arms down against his chest with one hand and change the diaper with the other hand. Yep, call me Super Mom.
Funny enough, he does not try to touch it when he is only wet.
Oh, I must mention my favorite thing that Noah has started doing. Praying. When we sit down to eat, he folds his hands and looks at us, waiting for our words. After someone prays and he hears the magic words, "Amen," he yells out, "Dah, Dah!" Translation=Amen.
Now, I would love to take credit for my holy child and say that we always make a point to show him the proper way to say a blessing before eating and before bedtime. But, sadly, Noah is normally in the highchair, pushed to the side, while we are dishing out food to everyone with the kids praying before shoving the food in. Somehow, he still figured it out.
I would love to write more, but Noah is currently grabbing the cord from the iron that was left out from when I was ironing Abby's American Heritage Girl badges on her vest and he is attempting to put it where it belongs-in the outlet.
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