Destruction 365... I suppose I had it coming.

I've been quiet lately... mainly because I haven't been able to capture any of the disastrous deeds of C with my camera, as they've been so very complicated...

First, C attacked the PS3. Something I've been dreading but didn't think that he'd actually do. Well. I was wrong. It was working wonderfully. As is our custom, we use it during the day to watch such educational DVDs as Futurama or The Lord of the Rings [what can I say, the kid has good taste]. Now, we don't watch TV and we watch a movie together once a day during the day. When I was switching the LotR Fellowship of the Ring Extended Edition Disk One for Disk Two... it stopped working. I'd put the disk in and it would go in just fine.. but it wouldn't read it. So I actually spent the remainder of the day [and the following two days before S was able to take it apart and fix it] believing that I'd somehow broken it, not C. Which was a relief coupled with extreme frustration at myself.

But then S took it apart. A long, drawn out, curse-filled process [one which I took the kids for a drive to the park so as not to subject them to it]. You can imagine my surprise when we got home to a now-working PS3 with a puzzle piece sitting on top of it. C had apparently put the piece in on top of the disk and when I ejected it to put the second disk in, the puzzle piece fell down and.. well.. yeah. Chalk another one up to beloved C.

Then--despite the fact that we literally have ZERO money in our house [no, really--we have no cash. We strictly use our Debit Cards, we're a no cash household], C was sitting on the bed with my while I nursed Av2 and he started choking. Long and terrifying story short, he puked up a quarter [God knows where it came from] that was choking him about half a second before the EMTs walked through our door. I much prefer when the destruction is aimed at objects rather than himself. Sigh. Needless to say, he's fine. Recovered quickly and slept well through the night. We didn't, of course. We were up literally all night watching him sleeping, keeping our eyes and ears open for any changes in his color or breathing... sigh. Scary, scary stuff.

I suppose he then had to redeem himself. Because he somehow poked a hole in our TV. I am still to relieved that he's, yaknow, alive to be upset about this one yet. I'm sure it'll hit me in a couple of days...

Destruction 365... ahhh, soap.

So I guess that C didn't like the new type of soap that I got for his Daddy.

All of us--minus S, of course--are total LUSH-a-holics, thanks to an introduction by a dear friend. But S... well. Anything that smells like anything but plain soap is a no-go.

Normally, because of this, we just get plain old Ivory soap. [Which, funnily enough, I bought a ton of when I was pregnant with Av2... it was the only substance that I wanted to bathe with. Honestly. Very weird...] But this time, in my rush to get out of the store with two sick kiddos, I grabbed Dove instead. Normally, S would probably not use it.. and I honestly had every intention of just bringing it back to the Safeway the next day when I went shopping for groceries [he had enough left of the bar of Ivory to last him til then]

But C had different plans. As he often does.

As previously mentioned, I have two sick kiddos. C got the sniffles then a full blown cold within 6 hours.. and promptly passed it on to me [who, if you recall, was just recovering from my own sickness...] And--of course--I generously passed it on to Av2, who--bless his heart--handed it off to Daddy.

We all go to sleep. Early, because we simply feel too bad to stay up any longer. But C... C had some juice left in him, yet! I'm not sure exactly when he woke up... how he managed to sneak out of bed without waking us.. or even how he managed to sneak back in without disturbing my extremely light slumber.

But he did it.

And in this time that he had, he decided that a little mischief was in order.

When I woke up to use the restroom, I walked in on this...

Now... honestly.. what? What a strange choice for destruction... but who am I to judge? I'm just happy that it wasn't something else.. like more DVDs or BluRays...






But then I wondered...

Where is the soap?

I had a mini panic, thinking that he'd consumed them...

Luckily, he was just testing them each out, individually.

Such self-sacrifice! Making sure they were Ok for his dad to use.

He's a Saint...

Destruction 365... it was too dark in here, anyway...

I owe our landlord a new set of blinds.

Really--I have no other words for this one. What was I thinking, going to make lunch?

Destruction 365... plants go outside for a reason.

Ahhh, my child. I love him. Seriously--absolutely adore the ground he walks on. I'd walk to the ends of the earth for him. I'd die for him, probably kill for him. I'd starve so that he could eat. I'd die of dehydration that he could drink. I'd freeze so that he could be warm. Anything, I would do or give up for this boy. [Or for any of his brothers...]

So why on earth does he go out of his way to incur my wrath? I mean, seriously--Time Out can't be that fun, can it? Being scolded surely isn't the best way to spend any given moment. So why, I ask, does he torment me so? Especially given the lengths I would gladly go to ensure his survival?

These are questions that I hope some day to have the answer to.

My trees. Trees that I've nurtured through the hard, cold winter of Indiana, drove thousands of miles to Seattle with to endure yet more winter, babied since they were wee seedlings not yet worthy of the title "tree" [or even shrub, for that matter]. My beloved trees.

You see, the weather in Seattle is just as confused as the weather in Indiana, it would seem. Just last week, I'd seen and felt the sun enough that I thought it would be safe to take them outside for some air and more direct sunshine. Then, overnight, it snowed, killing off some of the few leaves that had grown during the winter months. Of course, I brought them back inside, back to their nice, safe spot. A place where they can get enough warmth and sunshine to endure and grow during the cold. C normally assists me in watering these trees. Which, by all rights, should have been the first sign that he'd attack them once my back was turned [or my face in the toilet, as it were in this particular case. Thank you, Flu.]

So there sit, my carefully nurtured plants. In chaos and destruction.

Off to go purchase more soil and bigger--safer--pots...

Destruction 365... I seem to be missing days...

Oddly enough, our days have had more of a lull to them as of late. I am grateful for this because I'm currently sick. Either by divine intervention or just plain dumb luck, C has been relatively non destructive... makes me wonder if I shouldn't have started this blog, sooner.

In reality, he's mostly done nothing but draw. On himself. And my wall, but I'll spare you the image. It's none too pleasant.













Then, there are the DVDs. And make messes wherever he goes--that, too.. but mostly, they have been good days. Though I fear that voicing these praises of his new found good behavior will curse me and that this calm period we've been having is nothing but a clever ruse by my genius offspring to lull me into a state where I'm more apt to let my guard down and he will have more opportunity to get to the things that he really wants. Or, perhaps, he's simply running out of things to destroy. Hah.

Anyone know how to get pen out of my dining room chair?

Destruction 365... another good day

Nothing to report today. Thankfully. C was very intent on attempted murder but, thankfully, didn't get close enough to A to actually do any damage.

Granted, the night is not yet over, but seeing as C just went down for his first nap of the day, chances of him getting back up before tomorrow are slim to none.

Thank goodness [:

Destruction 365... burning rubber gets new meaning

I often wonder what made me decide that I would be a good parent. Essentially, I am an excessively selfish and lazy creature, though contradictory to this, I am ambitious and daring. Neither of these things are really applicable to parenting. Despite my self centered nature, I found myself expecting my first child. Then my second. Then my third. Then my fourth. Then my fifth. And, despite knowing better, plan on a sixth any time after 2010. This is what I meant when I said that C's sadistic tendencies are possibly genetic. Only a sadist would take not one, but two chances after seeing how C is developing. Contrary to what one might think reading this blog, our elder children are nothing like C at all. Sure, they have their moments, but all of them could be left in a room with that Big Red Button that destroys the planet and they wouldn't get near it, if you told them [once] not to. C, however, would not only press the Big Red Button [repeatedly with the hope of setting off as many nukes as possible], he'd somehow find a way out of that room and into the room that controls the worlds satellites and proceed to send them crashing to the earth. I'm sure he'd also inadvertently find a way to contact and subsequently annihilate all forms of alien life, as well.

Today, though, he's making do with tossing the house. This one was my fault. You see, I thought that he was sleeping. Hah. I thought that I had a moment that I could go outside with UNIX and let him run around our crappily fenced back yard [just wasn't feeling like driving to the dog park today...] And oh, UNIX enjoyed himself. I would let him out there more often, but as I said, the fence sucks. After a quick paw wiping session, we walked in the door.

...I wanted to walk back out again. C was quite pleased with himself. I do believe he thought that he was... helping. I suppose the laundry looked better on the floor and, this way, mommy wouldn't have to fold it, right? No, but now I'm likely going to have to rewash it... sigh.

Moving along, as if it wasn't enough to have to basically redo the laundry I've done [which, unfortunately, I didn't get pictures of] C was being most cooperative and helpful for the remainder of the day. He helped get dinner in the crock-pot [spaghetti--with my own modifications--Yum] and was playing happily with his little brother on the floor. I was instantly lulled by the peace within the house and--mistakenly--let my guard down.

Big mistake.

Now, candles are pretty commonplace in our home. Have been since before I was a mother and in the almost-twelve-years since becoming one. None of our kids--C included--have ever bothered with them or even really shown the slightest interest in them, lit or otherwise. Today, however, C notices the lull in the atmosphere and--as he is wont to do--takes advantage of it.

Now, C sits at the table and draws [on paper, usually, though our chairs have su.fered and, of course, the laptop screen was a recent casualty] Today, he took part of a toy car that he'd gotten on one of our extremely rare trips to Burger King. I thought nothing of it, nor did I think anything of the fact that there were lit candles on the table [as I've mentioned, even he has never gone near candles, before...] I happily go about my day, sitting at S' laptop, nursing A, checking out the Internet Drama to get my recommended daily allowance of... and I smell something... burning.

Instantly, I lean forward, detaching A in the process [which, I assure you, he is not happy about] and smell the laptop, wondering if there was, perhaps, a short in it. Because it smells vaguely of burnt electronics... hard plastic and metallic. The laptop, though, smells fine. However, C is now walking toward me, looking guilty and slightly afraid. I can't imagine why--I had just looked over at him a millisecond ago, immediately after I checked on the laptop and he was sitting there quietly with the pen in his hand.

Then, I realized that the chair back was blocking the candle from view.

Then, I realized that he no longer had his car.

This all happened quite instantaneously. There was no pause. I got up quickly and saw this toy car, sitting on top of that candle.

On fire.

Obviously, I didn't pause to take a picture. I figured the benefit of having such a splendid picture didn't quite outweigh the negative aspects living in a burnt out shell of a house would have. Plus, honestly, we don't have Renter's Insurance and I don't really know how we'd go about covering a replacement house.

So I quickly grabbed the car [probably a stupid move, looking back on it] and blew on it, trying to get the fire out. Luckily, I'm so full of hot air that this was successful and my hands didn't burn. I quickly tossed the smoking car into the sink which, luckily, had a large metal bowl full of water in it. Thank goodness I wasn't caught up on dishes, eh?

Needless to say, there are no candles lit in our home any longer. At least, not when C is awake...