My Funny People

from the mom

Thanks to a friend who reminded that I'm living the life of most mothers with young children, I had a good laugh at life with Kyri this past month.

She is a typical 1-year old who has taken to "reorganizing" the house with her own special flair. Extra soap goes in the bathtub along with hair brushes and makeup brushes go in the toilet. Toilet paper decorates the the whole house along with clothes pulled out of drawers, and pots, pans, and tupperware out of kitchen cupboards. Every toy we own must be on display and attempts to clean them up only makes her more determined to have them in view.

She is a conversationalist and she greatly "values" the company of her parents. Either will work but neither is not an acceptable option.

I'm usually awash with guilt that the floors need cleaned and perhaps that's why she's sick? But how do you clean floors with someone climbing all over them? Her 20-minute naps don't allow time to both clean them and dry them. She chases the vacuum and Ben tries to help and we get NOWHERE. We keep things just clean enough to prevent an infestation of bugs.

Ben is more and more helpful. This involves dropping his dishes in the sink and putting silverware in the dishwasher. He likes to get into the refrigerator now and he has very specific ideas about what he wants to eat. He likes to order for himself at restaurants and sometimes he thinks I run a restaurant.

Yesterday Ben and I had "the talk." You know...the one about his being allergic to cow's milk. I was enjoying a treat: yogurt. He gave me a look and opened his mouth for a bite. So we talked. Last night he opened the refrigerator and said: "Cow's milk makes me sick."

I was remarking to M this morning that 6 months ago I was praying for any words from this little guy. I knew he was an interesting fella but I wanted to know what he was thinking. Now there are days I'm not sure he will ever stop talking. And I love what he comes up with. When we're driving down the road and he spots a church and says "There's the cross of Jesus." Or when he asks me to "play no. 1" (CD) again. Or when he tells me he's tired and wants his blanket and devotional. He has accepted the four characters in his devotional into his life and talks about them incessantly. "Kaitlin is sad." "Poor Parker. He is so tired."

He has strong opinions about clothing now: "No, I want orange shirt." And when M comes home, he'll take his hand and say: "Let's play Legos."

Last night he read several "books" he has made at school to me. It is one thing that he reads some words but to hear him speaking them and to be able to understand is a gift. I'm looking forward to many more conversations.