Caleb has really been maturing these last few weeks, and it's keeping me on my toes. He is potty trained now, needing diapers only at night in case of the rare evening accident, and he's starting to dress himself and peddle his own bike now, so that's less he needs me for now. And my goodness can that boy talk! He is a chatterbox, and in the most absolutely adorable and endearing ways. The other day when getting on the potty, he fell off the front and then said, "Mommy, I guess that means I have to sit backwards on the potty"- I about fell out. For a two year old to verbalize a plan to solve a problem like that just cracked me up. When he pretends, it's delightful:
"Mommy, I have a baby alligator. I caught it in my hands and it's name is George... do you wanna kiss it? Can you hold it for me while I catch him some food with my fishin' pole?"
And when he sucks up, it's both hilarious and powerful:
(Daddy comes home with strawberries in hand) "Daddy, your the BEST Daddy ever!"
But he has a dark side, too...
Ryan and I often sit and wonder over our sweet kids at night after putting them to bed, talking about how neat their personalities are and discussing what they did new that day, and a common theme for us is, "He's just so CUTE!... but so BAD!" You see, one minute he's a cherub- all sweet blue eyes and silliness and "Tickle me MOMMY!" and the next, he's intent on driving someone completely crazy. He's devious in a million brilliant and troublesome ways about how to make his sisters weep and wail and me pull my hair out. For example, at the kitchen counter yesterday, he found a wooden spoon and was tapping it to a beat on the counter and singing a horribly mispronounced version of "Blessed be your name"- cute huh? Next thing you know, I turn my attention slightly toward the sink and away from him, when in my periphery I spy my darling cutie rearing back his arm over his sisters head (who was not facing him and completely unaware of the danger) so as to bap her over the head with the spoon. My arm shot out like a cannon to catch the blow before Hannah had her lights put out, but Caleb just looked at me, giggled, and took off running from Mommy-the-Punisher.
Another example: The kids all made drums at their recent VBS out of various plastic containers with lids. My girls have been using those drums as containers again to carry around little trinkets and treasures they find, carefully sealing the lids to hold in whatever flotsum they deem precious for the day. Caleb, though, whenever he enters the living room, makes a bee-line for those drums, opening them swiftly and steathily to dump out the treasure and then, like a creature that destroys merely for the pleasure of toying with it's victim, moves on to the other sisters' toy to do the same. He wasn't at all curious or interested in what's inside, but rather wanted merely to see his sisters gnash their teeth for the millionth time today and proclaim, "Caleb, why did you DO that!?"
It's like the boy lives a double life... that of a cute and cuddly little sweetheart who can melt my heart on a moments notice, and that of a devious criminal master, stealthy like a tiny ninja. A tiny ninja with strawberry jelly stains on his lips, Captain America undies and a tendancy to piddle on my carpet when not properly monitored. And he has such POWER. Watch out for little Two Face... lest he bring down the spoon while you marvel over his cuteness!
My headgear makes me impervious to my sister's poundings. Tomorrow, I'm going to take over the world.