Seamus the Menace

I am beginning to realize that a mom can tell a whole lot about her kid by the comments she receives on a nearly daily basis from friends and strangers alike.  Here is a sampling from my current Top Ten List. 

• Boy, do you ever have your hands full!

• What beautiful eyes he has!

• Boy, does he have a lot of energy!

• How much does this kid weigh?  (said in a breathy voice as the other mom is struggling to carry my son across the room)

• Boy, does he keep you busy!

• He's so curious and inquisitive, isn't he? 

• Boy, you sure do get a workout, don't you?

I think you get the drift.  Apparently, we have an enormous kid with nice eyes and a whole lotta, shall we say, personality.

Soft pretzel?  Don't mind if I do!

Don't get me wrong.  We love our boy and wouldn't change him for the world.  He is funny, smart,  adventurous and downright fearless.  And we love that.  He is the apple of our eye, the sunshine of our life.  We are crazy, crazy, crazy about him.

I guess Fionny thought I needed to carbo load after my run.

But there are certainly times when I catch myself looking wistfully at other children who seem more content to...well, sit still for half a second, for instance.  Not that I want those other children instead of Fionn.  It's not that.  It's just that...well, sometimes it would be nice to be the mom who is just chilling out with her child in her lap.  Having, I dunno, actual conversations, instead of chasing a runaway train around the room all the time.

Let me draw you a picture of what I mean.  I recently took Fionn to an event that was entitled Toddler Art Time.  One would think from the title that said event would be at least somewhat appropriate for my little rascally boy.

Yes? Yes?

Oh, silly Mommy.  As soon as we crossed the threshold of the art space, I realized that we had ourselves a little problem.  Let's review the scene of the crime, shall we?

Identified Problem #1: The room included a snack table that was at eye level of my boy, complete with muffins and some sort of sweet bread (banana, zucchini...hell, airplane fuel muffins would still be enticing to Fionn if it had crumbs and a decent consistency).  As predicted, Fionny wasted no time pumping his little legs over to that well-stocked table.  Although I pushed several platters successfully out of his reach, I'm sad to say that at least two blueberry muffins were reduced to mere crumbs at hands of our kiddo.  Fionn is nobody's fool.  He knew I was hot on his tail, and he was trying desperately to cram both muffins into his mouth at the same time before I could catch him.  I tried to shrug at the other moms who were standing nearby, saying something along the lines of "Guess we'll be contributing toward the refreshments now, huh?"  Cue fake laugh as I extricate a $1 from my diaper bag and drop it into the snack donation jar.

It didn't end there, of course.  Once he saw that darn snack table, it became an obsession.  Must.  Have.  More.  Snacks.  I spent most of the next 10 minutes removing him repeatedly and tearfully from the vicinity of the snack table.  You would think I never feed him from the desperation to obtain these snacks.  For realz.

Identified Problem #2: There was a table with art supplies that was also within arms reach.  Squeeze bottles of paint (in bold, vibrant colors, of course), scissors, markers, Crayons...and, in case you missed it the first time, SQUEEZE BOTTLES OF PAINT!

At this juncture in the morning, I think I began to whimper a bit as I watched Fionn's eyes light up with interest as he scanned the room and settled on his next target.   You can almost hear the wheels turning and turning when his eyes begin to sparkle in this way.

All systems go!  Get those paints!  Squirt 'em, drink 'em, fling 'em around!  EVERYTHING I'M PRETTY SURE I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO DO!

Indeed, Fionn wriggled out of my arms in seconds flat and had a bottle of green paint in his grubby little paw before I could even cut him off at the pass.  I was able to wrestle the paint out of his grip before too much destruction occurred, but it was a close call, believe me.  It was around this time that another well-meaning mom said to me, "Boy, is he an active little guy!  You sure do have your hands full!  Do you think maybe he would sit in your lap and color?"

Ha.  Ha.  Ha.  I laughed my way all the way out the door, down the stairs, and to the car.  Back to the playground, kiddo.  Where our kind belongs.  And you know what?  That's just fine with me.

That's it for now.  Happy Halloween, friends!  We will post our pictures of The Cutest Toddler Pirate Ever very soon. In the meantime, here's a teaser.

Argh!  Someone needs a tissue.