Warrick's to do.

I have found myself laughing quite often this week, and sometimes nearly crying.


Warrick's to-do list, week of August 9th, 2010


1. Escape. This morning when Brett left for work (incidentally when a few other neighbors were also leaving for work and had the privilege to witness) Warrick wriggled out the front door. Barefoot. Pajamas. "Focus face". Devilishly quick rounded the corner at the end of our walk and bee-lined for the park. Of course. If I ever lose him and suspect he's let himself outside, I think I will find him en route. I made my way as fast as I could, but with a swaddled small child in arms, fast is definitely relative. I barely caught him at the corner (5 houses away). As soon as I grabbed his arm, he collapsed onto the sidewalk. "lay down". Well . . . . if you think that is a good idea. I look away and he quickly gets up to attempt his escape again. I grab his arm. He falls down this time into someone's yard. I notice the Canadian geese are making their way towards us. A slow motion stampede, if you will. Hear a door slam and turn around to wave good morning to the neighbor whose yard Warrick is now lying in. She chuckles and waves. It's not the first time she's seen this happen, I presume. "HUG!" and with outstretched arms he moves into the flock to see if anygoose . . . . anygoose, will finally return his generous offer for a hug. (He does this all the time) So far, no takers. Attempt escape again. While holding small child, I box him out this way, now that way, closing all routes. He falls down again onto the sidewalk, "lie down!". Yep, whatever . . . I just washed those pajamas . . . . the ones that have a dr.'s white coat, stethescope, band-aids, etc... screen printed on them. I hear a truck slow down behind me. Turn to see driver craning his neck at us. Probably wondering if we are okay. Small child down in the sidewalk at early hour of day. I smile. We're fine. Just trying to catch a fugitive, herd a toddler home without using my arms. . . . you know . . .


2. Overflow bathroom sink. Unfortunately, this is also not the first time. Thank you Aunt Dalene for the very sturdy stool that gets so many uses every day.


3. Steal. Snatch my sister's pacifier and then run off and hide and get as many sucks as possible before mama or dad retrieves it. Do it every day. Focus face. Focus face.


4. Mark self with tattoo. All over my legs. With a pen. On the way to the store. While mom and dad chat in the front seat of car.


5. Conserve energy. Take advantage of sister's full bathtub that was left on kitchen floor. Do not waste energy taking off clothes or shoes. Disregard size discrepancy. Splash water onto floor so mama doesn't have to mop later.

6. Eat locust. While on a walk, he picks one up . . . not the shell, mind you . . . puts it in his mouth and says, "Special treat!" Gross. We give him a special treat when he poops in the toilet, but never have we given him anything to eat resembling a locust.

7. Go streaking. Mid diaper change, mid crying outrage from Vera, mid dad-gets-home-but-is-on-phone, Warrick presses his full little naked self up against the glass of the storm door to welcome his dad and then makes another escape attempt while all our hands are full. Several circles in the front yard and then falling down in the grass to illustrate his defiance.

8. Go on strike. "I am not leaving the YMCA, not even after touching and discussing everything seen, I will sit here on the blazing pavement in front of all 8 doors so all who enter can see that I, and not my sweaty mother carrying too many things, not my crying sister who squints into the hot sun, am in charge of our schedule and location." Three "gentlemen" in suits coming in for a lunch-time workout laugh, "He's on strike." No kidding. Thanks for the sympathy. Good thing I thought it was mildly funny that day and so didn't bite them for not helping in any form or fashion.

9. Flood bathroom without overflowing sink. Pull shower curtain out while dad takes shower so water goes onto floor. Play in it. Don't tell mom.

10. Hit sister. Apologize and hug her fiercely and then do it again. Every day.*

11. Remove floor vent in room and throw toy down two stories to basement. **

12. Tackle all second cousins unless they fall into "infant" category and are not immediate family. That would be six other little people under 2 1/2.*


*Some individuals were, in fact, hurt in this endeavor but have since recovered.
**The duct under Warrick's floor vent is thankfully too narrow for him to fit in. The windmill has not be recovered and won't be.