Nuts

My three boys. I love ‘em. Truly I do. But as each day passes, I’m starting to believe that they’re conspiring to drive me nuts. I imagine them, meeting in my oldest child’s room, devising a plan on how to systematically undermine my control and destroy any sense of order I’ve set in place. And man, are they good.
     I know when they have their meetings, too. That part is pretty easy to figure out. The oldest and middle boys go in their bedroom under the pretense of playing video games or watching a DVD, and then a few minutes later, the youngest toddles in after them and closes the door. Don’t let that sweet 18-month-old smile lure you in…he’s in it with them. I know it.
    My husband and I used to refer to our youngest as Lil Sampson because when he was learning to walk, he pushed chairs, his playpen, and the ottoman all around the room. It was so cute. But now he’s grown and moved on to bigger and better things. Why just the other day, he managed to pull his crib sheet off. Have you ever put a crib sheet on a crib mattress? I pulled a neck muscle just forcing the elastic-lined sheet over the final corner. I swear, I almost lost a finger when that puppy snapped into place. But what I struggled with, Lil Sampson removed with ease. And if that wasn’t enough, he managed to rip off one corner of the outer plastic covering on the mattress. How he managed to do that, I’ll never know…but I’m sure it involved a great deal of patience.
    In my little guy’s plan to show who’s in charge, he greeted me this morning with a cheerful, “Mom-mee!” while he stood there in nothing but his diaper. In his hands, the offending clothes that he didn’t want to wear. It was like he was telling me, “You dressed me in this outfit, and I want you to know I didn’t care for it.”
    But I know, just know he’s got something far worse planned for me. When he’s sure he’s worn me down and maneuvered me to his liking, that diaper will come off. He’ll wait though. Yes, until he’s had an upset tummy and filled his diaper with the good stuff. Then he’ll send Mom-mee over the edge by wiping that diaper on everything he can reach.
Baby: 3 
Mom: 0

My middle boy had multiple personalities. When he smiles, the sun shines, birds chirp, and a choir of angels sing from on high. He body slams me and professes his love. An hour later, his narrow-eyed glares make me wonder if I’ll be clutching my heart and heading for the hospital. And after that, he’s in tears, wanting me to fix a toy his older brother broke.
    One of his tactics to drive me over the edge is to wipe his face on my clothes. Drives me crazy! “Use a napkin,” I say, and he grins. I just know he’s waiting for the day I allow him to eat BBQ ribs.
    For now, his dream is to win the gold in the Burp Olympics…and I think he’ll do it, too. For a 4-year-old, he’s beyond his years in talent. He’s burped his ABCs, named shapes and colors, and even burped, “Excuse me,” in order to offset his actions with a normal apology. But the night he burped the blessing? That was too much! That was too far!
Middle child: 3
Mom: 0

The oldest boy we’ve dubbed Mr. Chaos. When a situation goes wrong, when life is just kicking you in the butt, the oldest has to go bananas and make it all a million times more chaotic. He thrives on chaos. I know he does.
    But he did get mom’s gene in the storytelling department. For Cub Scouts he had to create a frame, put a picture in it, and then show it to his den. The frame turned out fabulous. The story however…
    “This is the frame I made,” he said, proudly holding it up. “This is the sweetest baby in the world. His name is Tyger.”
    Okay, so far so good. I smiled, watched my son with pride. But we all know about pride…
    “This is my other brother, Kaspir. He’s the toughest little guy you’ll ever meet. But there’s only one thing that he does that drives me nuts. After he goes to the potty, he forgets to flush. And then I have to go in there find it. It’s really gross.”
    While all the other parents chuckled, I wanted to hide beneath the table.
    And then there was the cleanliness conversation he had with his Nana and Grandpa in the Mexican restaurant.
    “Oh, mom makes us wash real well. We wash all over so we’re clean. Our arms. Our legs. Our bottoms. Why, I wash my wee-wee until it sparkles like a diamond.”
    Yeah, the tables around us cracked up. My parents found his profession hysterical. I, on the other hand, wanted to crawl under the table…again.
Oldest child: 3
Mom: 0

Yes, there’s a conspiracy. I have no doubt. Three against one? Yeah, I don’t stand a chance. And did I mention I’m home schooling?
Yep. I’m insane. Certifiably nuts.
But I love ‘em.

Laura
L.J. Garland
Intense. Involved. Unforgettable.
www.lj-garland.com