Sunday, September 12, 2010

Silas

Silas. The last one. The little one. The cute one. The one who makes me want to scream.

Silas was a very, very good infant. She hardly cried, she loved to snuggle, and she could make your heart melt with just one precious smile. As she's grown she's shown a more...well...precocious side to her personality.

With 5 older brothers and sisters she learned early on that if she wanted to keep something she had in her hand, or if she wanted something that was in someone else's hand, she had to be aggressive. She took it a little too far. Biting was her modus operandi, her very favorite way to get what she wanted. Then, someone bit her back, not gonna say it was me, but let's just say that the person was an adult with an interest in not only stopping her biting, but also a person who knew the bite had to be hard enough to get her attention, but not so hard as to leave any sort of mark. Whether or not you agree with my method, it worked. She hardly ever bites now. That's right...hardly ever.

Enter "the scream heard round the world." (TSHRTW) I'm sure our neighbors have wondered who was being tortured inside our home. You don't believe me? Just tell Silas she can't have what she wants. Better yet, tell her it's naptime. You'll need hearing aids for the rest of your life. TSHRTW is especially effective in public. Yes, I have become that mother who will do anything to make the kid stop screaming. I swore I would never do that and I did not give in with any of the other kids. You have to hear it to understand. It will be an enlightening experience for sure.

Silas has had several hobbies in her two years. The first one was removing all the books from her and Memphis's bookshelf. It's not a very big shelf, but kid books are small so I would walk in to find 100 books strewn about as if she were trying to re-floor her bedroom with Dr. Suess and Margaret Wise Brown. This hobby was irritating, mainly because she wasn't capable of returning them to the shelves without destroying them. That doesn't mean she didn't try. Many a book was tossed during this time.

As fun as that was, I would trade her current hobby for that one in a heartbeat. Now, her mission is to destroy our home and my sanity little by little, bit by bit, until I am a raving lunatic standing atop a pile of rubble where my bed used to be.

Phase 1: Incapacitate main toilet and distract parentals long enough to make sure they didn't know it was me.

Execution of Phase 1: Flush toilet paper spool down the pot and quickly shove a small, green bead up my nose.

Net Damage from Phase 1 Execution: $60 for the plumber, $200 for the ER visit, moderate to heavy stress load on Mom.

Phase 1 successful.

Phase 2: Parentals on high alert. Surreptitious movements necessary. Vandalize the home whenever the opportunity presents itself.

Execution of Phase 2: Paint the bathroom mirror with lotion everyday, especially right after Mom cleans it. Graffiti my body with markers right before church or grocery store trip or whenever we might make contact with other people. Use a blue sharpie marker to scribble all over Mom's laptop screen. Dump dark purple nail polish in big splotches on myself and on the carpet in the hall. Decorate Mom and Dad's bathroom with Mom's makeup effectively ruining Mom's makeup.

Net Damage from Phase 2: Heavy stress load on Mom.

Phase 2 successful.

Phase 3, I believe, is in the works. And if I know Silas it's gonna be a doosie. I wake up everyday and immediately go into recon mode. With this baby, you never know what the day holds.

Today, someone gave Silas a small, hard candy. I'm sure whoever it was thought they were being nice. I didn't know she had this candy when I gave her a cup of water. She took a drink and hit her knees. She was making a horrible sound and her face was turning scarlet. I knew she was choking. I picked her up and flipped her over and began pounding on her back. She drew a breath, dragging the candy back into her windpipe and Brad took over the pounding. It seemed to take forever, but finally she literally threw up a small, red disc.

In the 30 seconds it took to dislodge the candy, her whole life flashed before my eyes. Suddenly all of the scheming she has done didn't matter. She is my loving, kind, sweet, precious baby girl who I wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

Oops, gotta go, TSHRTW is about to wake up every other child in our home. Tonight it's a sweet, sweet sound.

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1 Comments:

Blogger Strongone said...

Hang in there and remember she is the midst of her terrible "twos". This too shall pass

9/13/10, 6:43 AM  

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