I went out to hang a load of laundry on the line. I am sort of relishing saying that. Like saying “I went out to pick black raspberries for breakfast.” It has elements of both idyll and righteousness: I am Mother, and I am serene and lovely as I go about my simple and lovely daily household tasks. Perhaps I am wearing a calico dress, and little wisps of hair are escaping prettily from my bun to curl near my healthy rosy cheeks. It was particularly satisfying this morning since what I was clipping to the line included HANDKERCHIEFS and REUSABLE PADS. Could I BE any greener? (You: “Perhaps if you were doing this on purpose, rather than only because your dryer broke.”)
ANYWAY, I pinned up a load of laundry, so that’s how long I was gone. Ten minutes? When I came back in, I found:
- door locked, both doorknob lock and deadbolt
- empty candy wrappers on dining room floor
- kitchen towel and soap dispenser in sink
- Henry’s underpants and pants in the trash
- Henry wearing only shirt and socks
- chocolate on Henry’s face and shirt
- cushions off couch
- diapers removed from package and strewn about room
That doesn’t look like much, I guess, now that I see it in a tidy little list. Perhaps it’s more the cumulative effect of having these things happen ALL DAY EVERY DAY.
The ONLY TIME Henry is not on a path of relentless, cheerful destruction
Children sleep so we remember why we love them so!
All I want to know is, YE GODS TELL ME IT’S JUST A PHASE!
I call my 3 yo son Captain Chaos. His 20 mo brother is the Deputy of Destruction.
You know, my third is like this, but he’s only 20 mo old. I keep hoping it’s just a phase. PLEASE GOD let it be just a phase!
But, Cheerful, Relentless Destruction–that’s good. I am absolutely going to use that one.
Now I have the phrase “cheerfully destructive” in my head, like Henry’s a miniature, good-natured Godzilla. Hee!
To me, the epitome of “idle yet righteous” would be hanging out cloth diapers. I mean, I want another baby, and then I want to cloth diaper that baby, and then I want to install a clothes line so I can see them drying in neat rows in the yard. And while I would probably hate every moment of the WORK of that little scene, once it was done? I’d feel totally satisfied and probably a little smug.
And Henry! Oh, he still has a bit of baby left in him- the roundness of his cheeks; the way he still sleeps with his arms curled… He may be a Destroyer… but he’s an ADORABLE one!
These posts make me frightened of having another child. Boys are so scary to me.
He really is adorable, though, so there is that. I guess that’s why we’ll always have more!
His pants and underpants in the trash? Hilarious.
The list makes me wish I was a fly on the wall while you were outside to see in what order he delighted in such chaos. Did he deliberately lock the door first to slow any attempts to thwart his master plan? Did he shed his clothes and eat chocoalte naked for the pure decadence? Or did he eat the chocolate & get it on the cushions and himself and then try to clean up & hide the evidence? I love trying to figure out just what’s going on in their little minds!
That is why I always bring a set of keys when I leave the house, even if it’s only for a second.
Also, I’d like to chime in that the self-righteous feeling of piety is at least half the reason I do all the green things that I do. I like to be smug.
We call the girls The Destructos. I honestly want to know WHAT IN THE SAM HILL they are thinking sometimes. I mean, pumping out an entire bottle of lotion, one pump at a time? WHY?
I solemnly swear that it must be boys. As I’ve mentioned before, we have half shares in raising my 25 month old niece. While her second middle name can be trouble, she’s nowhere near as bad as my nephew, who is only two weeks older than she is. My sister swears that she’s going to officially change his middle names to “Mayhem” and “destruction” because that’s what he does all day long. He’s already had two hospital trips for stitches (no fear, that one!) and whenever she puts the new baby down for a nap, she has to lock the doors because he’s decided that his baby sister is his dolly!
I know the feeling! My son is three and I’m not sure I am going to make it through this year. I clean one mess and there are two others waiting, I can never get ahead of the mess!
DUDE, I feel you! Three is destruction. Cute, cheery destruction, yes, but destruction none the less.
LOL…hate to break it to you ladies, but it doesn’t get any better until they’re old enough to pay for their own belongings…and that doesn’t necessarily mean that other family member’s belongings are safe.
Prepare yourself for disassembled hair dryers, lost shoes, torn clothes, permant ink stained furniture, dented walls, nicked door casings, bent curtain rods, never-ending food consumption, stupid decisions, and a mind-boggling lack of common sense.
Angela Pea
Mother of Four Teenagers –
Two Who Are Boys
lmao. I know the feeling. I tell most people that ask that I advise against having both a 2 and a 3 year old at the same time.
When my nephew was 2 or 3, I was amazed at how much he could destroy. And then I was blessed with 2 boys of my own.
Terrible Twos didn’t happen at our house but Threatening Threes–that’s 24/7. We have the same cloud sheet set…it looks so snuggly I wish I had it for my bed.
I swear I could smell the fresh air while reading about hanging the laundry on the line.
What a great post. And I totally loved your colorful, if exaggerated, description of hanging laundry on the line.
I read this article today and thought of you:
http://nymag.com/news/features/67024/
Hilarious. But, GROSS! Hanging reusable pads on the line! I picture they would be all, y’know, STAINED! But maybe you are a better laundress than I am.
With the shorts and socks in the trash, you didn’t panic at all (even just for a second) that it was CHOCOLATE on Henry’s face?