This morning Sheldon, in toothy desperation, bit Q on the leg and left a nice puffy mark. Quinten now runs from his baby brother and screams “I have to get away from Mr. Bite-y!” He actually climbed onto a piece of furniture when Shel crawled his direction.
I took Mr. Bite-y and his shell shocked brother to a Preschool Parade at my church. I also took a stroller with a flat tire and a giant red Lightning McQueen tricycle. Good times.
Quinten likes balloons. The End.
This is him on his way to the tricycle race. He was only interested in balloons.
I think you can imagine how adorable this was in person. Q is in the middle, on the red bike. He is making a confused face because he’s confused. He started off racing with the rest of the pack, then he remembered his bike had buttons and he just sat in the middle of the parking lot, pushing buttons.
La, la, la.
He came in last place; he never even crossed the finish line…I screamed from the sidelines, “PEDAL HARDER! BEAT THOSE LITTLE RUG RATS!!”
No, I didn’t.
I said, “Good job Q! Way to move those feet.” I’m a good mommy like that…plus, I like irony.
We made hats and signs. I tried to get him to paint his face but that was too freaky for him. He did go for a tattoo.
A tattoo of Noah’s Ark. Hardcore.
Remember when a balloon, a popsicle, and a tattoo equaled a perfect day? I don’t.
Rub-on tattoos were taboo when I was growing up. Nobody but sailors had tattoos in the eighties…right? Sailors and Motley Crue.
Let’s pretend Sheldon was full of wonder and amazement the whole time, even though it was during nap time. I love pretending, don’t you?
After the races Q sat on my lap in the shade while we all played a rousing game of “Uh OH!” thanks to Sheldon and his knack for dropping his sippy cup over and over and over and over.
Under the tree, with my two little children, I realized that I’m so blessed.
I haven’t gotten much sleep lately due to a stellar combination of molar teething (Shel) and early rising (Q). I am incapable of thinking deep thoughts, or even using punctuation properly. I am capable of drinking a lot of coffee and telling you truth: this life is a gift.
There will be Mr. Bite-y’s and broken dishes, broken hearts and pee-pee floors but there will also be a million thousand moments of absolute beauty in the midst of the chaos. That’s the part of life I’m choosing to embrace.
That, and the Noah’s Ark tattoo.
Like Q says when we leave the house, “Yet’s ROCK and Roollll!”