Thursday, August 26, 2010


Who told Luca he could be noisy? I want names. Elijah, I’m looking in your general direction.

What used to be a child who could go hours without so much as a “peep” has turned into an amplifier turned all the way up to ten. Or eleven if you’re into Spinal Tap.

Every morning when I do kid duty, I prefer to lay on the floor and enjoy that strange place between sleep and awake. I believe that place is called Cincinnati. But noooo. Luca decided to become a one man drumline/ chorusline.

His favorite thing to do is crawl over to our TV cabinet and swing the big, wooden door closed so hard it rattles the windows. BAM! Elijah, Grover and I all secretly hope he’ll pinch his fingers, but he never does. Once I’ve had enough and block the doors with furniture and Golden Doodles, he moves on to the toy oven we have in the corner. To make me an omelet? No. To smash the tiny pots and pans together. BAM! Eli, who knows violence against his brother is a one way ticket to the stairs, holds his hands over his ears. Grover simply paces. Hoping he can stay alive for eighteen more years.

He also loves screaming. If he’s happy because he can now crawl? “Yeearrrrrrgh!” If he’s mad because I put him in his bouncy seat office? “Yeearrrrrrgh!” If he wants to eat, sleep, sit, be held, get changed? “Yeearrrrrrgh!” If he wants to be quiet? “Yeearrrrrrgh!”

When I take Grover out for his morning constitutional, I can hear Luca’s gleeful/angry screams all the way to the street. Grover just looks at me with a look that says, “Let’s not go back. We can run away and start a detective agency.”

At least I can go to work where the only sound is the quiet weeping of my co-workers.

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