My Son is Not a Blob

When my son was born, I was worried he'd be a blob. Not so. In fact, so not so. I spend most of my day chasing after him, cleaning up his messes. One of his favorite things to do is to draw all over himself with marker. Somehow, he'll always find the permanent markers that I hide and use those because they're the hardest to clean off. Highlighters are also hard to wash off.

He also loves to draw on the walls, the floor, homework papers, and the toilet bowl. Yes, the toilet bowl. I didn't even know a pen could mark up a toilet bowl, but he's proven it can be done.

Today, he decided that the books on the shelves in the library were just too tempting to leave alone. Yep, I now have a pile of books, knee-deep, in my library.

He's also become obsessed with eating ice cream bars, usually my Weight Watcher ones. He opens the freezer, grabs an ice cream bar, and eats it as fast as he can before I can find him. He doesn't like some of the bars so I find those melted under the table, on the counter, or in the bathroom sink. I can't keep him out of the freezer.

He's also become proficient at turning on the computer and clicking his way into programs that he likes. He can manuever through programs faster than I can. On one online program, he can click on it and see someone do the sign language for each letter of the alphabet. He likes to imitate the person and it's really cute. It's not cute, however, when he opens my laptop and proceeds to give me the black screen of death, you know, the one where nothing happens and my only choice is to reboot.

So, yes, my son is not a blob and while I'm very thankful that he isn't, there are days when it'd be nice if he'd just slow down for a second.