I know it has been a couple of weeks since my last post and they have been sparse, lately. I blame it on the new calling. And Homeboy, who has decided to NOT sleep at night. And the weather. And PMS. In fact, I blame EVERYTHING on PMS. It's my divine right to, being a woman and all.
When I was set apart with my new calling, a part of me was hoping that our dear Bishop would feel inspired to tell me that my worries would be over. My worries with Homeboy, that is! For some odd reason I believed that as soon as I accepted this church calling, Homeboy would magically stop climbing the counter tops and dumping whole containers of paprika into my new purse (paprika even got into my hand lotion. it was that bad). That he would leave his diaper on and discontinue his practice of "handling" himself (i write this just as i have looked up and see him in the buff, waist down. again.) That he would become my angel child and sit quietly and perfectly still during sacrament meeting, with no escapes to the other ward's nursery. Their nursery leader knows us by name now. Yup, this was my dream as I was being set apart... in between Homey trying to control Homeboy from climbing on to the Bishop's desk (flashback - tithing settlement) and Homeboy yelling at the top of his lungs, "goway! goway!", and hitting his older brother. Good times, people. Good times.
Well, needless to say, I have one word for you... NOT! Oh, how I have such foolish dreams! (insert sarcastic chuckle)
A little over a week ago, our fam dared to venture out, into the public, and enjoy a pizza dinner and movie. These kind of excursions can be a little risky for our fam. Especially if you happen to be sitting in the next booth by us. Flying chicken nuggets have been known to hit an innocent bystander, or two, in the head. I wish I could have video taped such past events and I would share them with all of you... in slow mo. Even better.
Things usually start out nice, whenever our fam dares to eat out.
Homeboy was even in the "giving" mood.
"I sare! I sare!", he says.
Awwww! Brotherly love!
Warms the chambers of my heart.
Peaceful times don't last long before things begin to happen. Things such as a Lego guy stranded by a small mess of - well, something. It doesn't take much for this kid of mine, to notice such things and to all of the sudden do something insane, such as...
Homeboy decided to LICK the mess clean. LICK - the mess on the well established, hundreds of people have consumed their food on, little kids picking their noses then placing their hands on, table, clean. And it wasn't a quick swipe of the tongue. Oh no! It was a full on, cat-like tongue, action.
I would've captured the dreadful moment on digitized film, but I was in too much shock and wondering how much the hospital bill would be when Homeboy was hospitalized for contracting Malaria or some other awful infection.
Oh, wait... here is an example of above mentioned scenario.
Awwww, I have such motherly pride for this boy.
The licking of the table was just the beginning.
WWF Wrestling-like beatdown of older brother ensues.
Then impalement by breadstick.
Observe, Homeboy's cat-like reflexes.
Observe, how many times I've used the hyphen and the word like (ie: cat-like, wrestling-like) through out this post. Well, it wasn't that much. But it seemed like it. I have nonsense-like, thoughts running through my head all of the time.
Sometime, in the near future, I hope to be able to attend church, a dinner out with the fam, or any public area, for that matter, without having to hide my head in shame. But then again, life would just seem a bit boring compared to what I'm dealing with now. And you would miss out on my amusing posts about Homeboy!