The Week In Review, Followed by an Open Letter

I feel like it's been a busy week so I feel the need to review if only for my own records. Because here it's more than a blog, it's record-keeping.

This week I appropriately repeated (as necessary) the mantra, "Serenity Now!" from the inaugural Mantra Monday, which came especially handy when the little one somehow wrestled free an entire piece of floor molding and the older one followed suit by swinging it around like a giant lightsaber and coming dangerously close to hitting everything in an 8 foot radius (it was quite perplexing: from the stove I see this giant piece of flange flying around and could only identify it by moving closer...) or when I saw my little one trying to drink out of the cat bowl or putting all of his fridge magnets in it. Or when the older one almost knocked over the booster chair WITH THE LITTLE ONE STRAPPED INSIDE OF IT (heart attack. heart attack. heart attack. Motherhood is made up of a string of tiny little heart attacks.) You know, normal things like this.

But we ate corned beef and cabbage because it was St. Patrick's day, and we drank green beer, and I made green shamrock jello jigglers (that actually came out right! but they're smothered with green whipped cream so they don't look like it in this picture) with the older one's class,and we saw the shuttle Discovery lift off from our backyard, and I came dangerously close to neglecting my beautiful new plants (I was going to take pictures, but instead, I used the time it would have taken to take the pictures to actually water them this time. Oh and before I forget, Happy First Day of Spring, everyone!!) And I performed all of my scheduled triathlon workouts ("the fly" was out in full force) and I ended the winter softball season with two flyouts (better luck next time!). Oh, and he's just shy of 16-months old, but you can just call him "Business Giver." Because the little one has hit several developmental milestones recently that I thought would best be described in a monologue.

So, in closing, I leave you with what can only be called a fictional work, entitled:

"Taking a Stand: An Open Letter to my (almost) 3Year Old Bully Brother" :

Hello, Brother. Remember me?

Your little brother? The punished, the tortured, the victim, the baby? The one you hit, knocked down, pushed over, ran over with your motorcycle, car and train, bit, slapped, kicked, poked and punched?

Yeah, him. Well guess what? I've got one word on my mind and it's this: revenge.

Because sometime over the last week or two I found my voice and doggone it, I'm using it!

Sure, I'm short. Sure, I am still bald. And sure I speak only a few words that the human ear can recognize. Like "Peesh" (please), "Gank Goo" (thank you), "Ay-uh" (princess leia), "Kee Ka" (kitty cat), "I Loo" (I love you) "Num Num" (yummy) and the normal baby rubbish like "Mama" and "Dada"...

And sure, I look all cutesy when I do things like sit around in my diaper wearing your fireman hat.

But don't let my baby cuteness fool you. Like it fooled the lady at Panera Bread who saw me grab two fistfuls of your hair with my tiny angry hands and refuse to let go. I heard her; She told you I didn't mean it. But we all know better.

This baby facade I got goin' on is perfect and I'm going to ride this as long as I can. And don't think I won't.

Because I may not speak words (that you understand), but I have a voice now. And I stand over you (while you're sitting down) and I yell, "RAH RAH RAH RAH RAH RAH RAH!!!!!!" while standing 2 inches from your face. And I follow it up with some angry-looking babypointing with my tiny finger and yell some more "RAH RAH! RAH! RAH! RAH!!" in my angriest raspy babyvoice and you hear me. Finally. And you give me back that toy you just took.

Victim? I take it no more.

Now I follow you around the house yelling in what could only be described by others as baby expletives as you run off carrying my truck. And I have the slightest bit of satisfaction when I see that you now "get it". Because you turn right around and hand it back.

Oh yes, I have a voice.

And when you're sitting there silently, watching Curious George or some other pre-school drivel that mommy puts on the tv for us while she blogs, I sneak up behind you and hit you in the head with your Bob the Builder hammer. Or I stand there smiling at you and then nail you in the face with the remote.

It's payback time.

Because no one thinks I am quite capable of this. Maybe you don't even think I'm capable of this.

But I've got a lot of history to make up for, Brother! My mind's like a steel trap! You don't think I forgot that time you smacked me in the head when I was getting ready for my Christening, do you?

Oh, no. So just remember, whatever you can do, I can do now. And probably even better. Like use a fork (what was that display last night with the fistfuls of spagetti? What are you, one?!) or use a straw or put your big boots on my tiny feet or wear your backpack as I follow you out the door to school.

I will no longer be bullied. Yes, Big Brother, it's officially on!

(But just so you know, at the end of the day, I still love you.)

With loving regards,

The little man with the big voice

ps. I'm coming for you!

The Week In Review, Followed by an Open Letter

https://babytealeaves.blogspot.com/2009/03/week-in-review-followed-by-open-letter.html