Socks. They are my nemesis! I am pretty good at matching socks, but if I do put some separate socks into my boys' laundry baskets, they don't even notice or care. In fact, William told me he likes wearing mismatched socks better than matched ones.
Destruction of socks and other clothing occurs as well. The other day while I was sitting by Ryrie at the piano, he began pulling at the elastic strip of his sock and I was surprised to see a huge gaping hole in it. He didn't seem too troubled by my surprised look! William was gnawing a hole in the arm of his shirt during practice time too. He likes to chew his shirts so much that sometimes he has to change them because of drool.
Sometimes if I don't strongly object, the twins will wear the same shirt and pants (and probably underwear too) to school 3 days in a row, because it is their "favorite!"
Today Will came downstairs for church with his buttons all skeewompus under his vest. Didn't even care and definitely did not want me to fix them. I did anyway.
Owen sleeps with socks on. They are called his bedtime socks. It means they are clean when he puts them on. Hopefully that will still prevent fungus from growing, right?
Thomas refuses to change into his clothes until after breakfast. This includes his pull-up. No matter how drenched it is from the night he doesn't care to remove it.
This morning Owen said he "Sweat" his bed. Twice. This means he wet it. But he was in my bed in the middle of the night without either James or I knowing he was there. This gives me cause for great consideration. AT what point did the "sweating" occur?
William loves to pick out the gravel from the bottoms of his shoes during church. Picking his nose or biting his nails also proves quite entertaining. We are trying to encourage reverence and sometimes he is the most reverent of all the boys, when thus happily preoccupied.
My boys always claim to have washed their hands, but when I ask if it would pass the "smell" test, they run to do it again.
George just spits up on everything, mostly on me. Friday night, I ventured out of my house for the first time in two days. I was feeding George on the deck of the pool (James was swimming with the kids) and he barfed on my shoulder. I glanced down at my shirt with disgust. I had milk stains, barf stains, bread dough bits, flour, and peanut butter swipes from one of the kids all over me. I think I fit right in, don't you?
Oh, Rach. This post made me laugh and laugh and laugh. My favorite parts: William chewing on his shirts?! What!?! (Sorry, it's the R.L.Stine influence again) Kids are so funny and weird. I love it. And "sweating" the bed is hilarious!! I love that he was in your bed without you even knowing it---that happens to me all the time. I wake up SO HOT and cramped, and then I realize Seb is there by me, so I get up like a zombie and drop him back in his own bed and then go back to sleeping the sleep of the dead.
ReplyDeleteFixing buttons . . . why is it such a battle? Seb always wants me to do his top button---but then he's too ticklish so he folds up his neck and won't let me at it---and then all his other buttons are ALWAYS WRONG and he HATES having me fix them. It makes that last 20 min. before church really special . . .:)
Okay, and the "reverence" while picking at nose/shoes/etc? That's the best idea ever. It has always amazed me how long my kids can keep at something like that, when they are tired of their "My Book about Jesus" board book after 15 seconds.
And so little George is a spit-upper? My kids are too. Some more than others, but all of them necessitated having a burp cloth handy AT ALL TIMES. Daisy's finally growing out of it, but still if I don't have a cloth close by, she invariably chooses that time to spit up. Half the time I don't even clean it up anymore, I just think "This shirt will get washed at some point . . . "
I don't care if not ONE SINGLE OTHER PERSON reads this blog, keep writing it for my sake!! I've been in a bad mood all morning and you have completely cheered me up. Love you Rach.
--Mar
WV: finglex?! "Did George spit up on you again? Let me get some finglex and I'll wash that out for you." It's like some horrible bastardization of "elbow grease" (which phrase I hate, by the way)