It has almost been a month since Christmas. What a month it has been. Some one has been sick almost the entire time. One gets better, and the next one gets sick: sinus infection, ear infection, stomach bug, pink eye, chest cold... It is hard not to feel isolationist. But when we were out and about more, we had fewer illnesses. I'm tired of being sick and thinking about germs.
Because of the sicknesses, I didn't really get the break I was hoping for. I wanted to get things organized and cleaned while Thomas had a few days off to help with the boys so I didn't get interrupted every 5 minutes. But because of the illnesses, Thomas did get a week off instead of just a few days. So I am not ready for the year to start, and the first month is almost over.
In spite of my exhaustion, and sometimes because of my exhaustion, funny things happen pretty regularly.
I slipped off my clogs to curl up on the couch with Malcolm, and Eamon put one on his head. I asked him to take it off and he said, "But it is my hat."
Another morning he ran into the bedroom shouting, "Parsley! My gun will only shoot parsley!"
Malcolm loves to help in the kitchen, getting food ready. "What next, Mommy? Now what? Now what? I want to break the eggs." Today, when we were making popcorn for lunch, he rubbed his chest and belly, saying, "Mommy, can I have my chef's thing?" He meant his apron.
They regularly fight over which of them is what superhero. "I'm the Green Lantern, so you should be Batman." "No, I want to be the Green Arrow." "But you are wearing red, so you should be the Flash." "No, I'm Spiderman." This is all one conversation and Eamon gets so mad when Malcolm changes superheroes in the middle of the game.
They have also gotten into Rescuebots, a type of Transformers. Malcolm especially pretends to be them. He will transform into the robot, then yell, "Rescuebots, roll out!" Then he jerkily "transforms" into whatever machine he is pretending to be, and crawl along with his head of the floor. When he gets where he wants to go, he jerkily stands back up and walks like a robot.
He also will occasionally yell, "I am controlling you," and pull out his "remote" and pretend to push buttons and move joysticks while watching Eamon do whatever he was doing before.
In other news, I have finally taken my mother-in-law's advice and started folding clothes right out of the dryer. Now I have baskets of clean, folded clothes laying around instead of baskets of clean, unfolded clothes, but the time between being washed and getting into the drawers has diminished by several days. The boys and I have also started reading "Little House in the Big Wood's" together. We are all enjoying it, both the stories as well as the extended cuddle time right before naps/quiet time.
As Malcolm says, as he pretends to pull shut a door between he and I, "Good-bye!"
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