Time for some tales, don't you think?

I was going back through some old blogs and realized that it used to be much more entertaining when the kids were younger and making me half crazy with their exploits.Then they grew up and started kindergarten and the house seemed to 'settle' a bit and life was all good and wonderful and maybe a little less entertaining retrospectively, but a whole lot more sane for me.

Why I even started my own photography business (which is slowly growing thanks) and have been even keeping my kitchen clean with a minimum of effort.

However, my dear sweet Joey is now approaching "tale" age.
We knew it would happen - he wouldn't stay the same sweet loveable immobile blob that he once was - he's a mover and a shaker and has now this week moved into the stage of mischief maker.

It's harder for him I suppose, not to have a sibling so close in age to suggest naughty things to do - he's gotta come up with them all on his own, without any help from a partner in crime.

His older brothers would gladly help, except that they've been far too indoctrinated into the "actions have consequences" theory, and hate risking their freedoms for a moment of glorious mischief.
Poor Joey has now become the scapegoat, getting far more credit for his mischief than even I think he deserves. You see these older boys are neither blind, nor stupid. they are well aware that Joey is capable of making a mess on his own, and that mummy will sigh, and drag out the vacuum cleaner or the steam cleaner - much as I did for the big boys when they made messes with wild abandon. The problem lies in the fact that they can now ADD to the mess - and still get Joey to take the fall.

Me: "Who wrote on the wall?"

D&M: "Joey did it!!"

Me: {scowling face}, but realizing that conceivably, the marks on the wall could have come from Joey - It's not like before when the boys would blame him, without realizing the error of their logic - that Joey couldn't possibly reach that high. Only now he can, and they all know it.

I was out of the room doing some tidying up in the front, and when I got back to my laptop, noticed that it had been 'decorated' - Pencil scribbled all over the screen, and keyboard.

Of course Joey got blamed - Joey always gets blamed - only this time, I think Joey really was the culprit - mostly because I saw him running around gleefully with a pencil yelling "aaaaaaaaaaaaah ba da ba de de de PENSO" Which is just his way of saying "sorry I wrote all over your laptop with a PENCIL" (I'm sure that's what he's saying right?)

So because he 'apologised' so nicely, I simply took the pencil away, and went off to get a cloth to wipe off my screen and pray that the pencil would come off easily and not damage the screen (it did come off, and no permanent damage - phew!)

So I'm having to get used to this new havoc and chaos causing Joey, because the old Joey was just sunshine and lollipops and never got into anything. This new almost 3 yr old Joey has discovered how easy it is to just open the pantry and drag a box of rice krispies into the family room. He continually brings me cans of beans and tomato paste uttering his one pathetic command word "Open" - not realizing that Oreos don't come in cans.
Still he's become very entertaining to me, and although his speech is significantly delayed - we think it's funny as all get out, when he jabbers away an entire sentence with all of one recognizable word becuase he usually picks a pretty specific word to convey his requests.
eg. "Blah blah blah de buh za boo ma Cookie!" or "isya ba da ba pe goya BAF" (bath)


Now the older boys - they have graduated to more sophisticated kinds of trouble. No more taking pizza cutters to furniture, and drilling holes in the wall
I digress, because we did have another hole drilling incident a few months ago.
Sometimes the hubby and I just look at each other and wonder what people think of us 'letting' our kids play with power drills and such, but honestly, we don't, and we thank our lucky stars that they haven't managed to drill each other's heads or nail themselves to a wall. You see they are sneaky. They have learned that being quiet does have it's benefits on Saturday mornings when mummy and daddy are sleeping. We can't hear them getting up, rummaging around for the basement key, which is hidden way up out of their reach, and has a moving hiding place which they are getting good at finding. They unlock the basement door and sneak down there to play with daddy's power tools - which ARE put away, and unplugged, but darn it if they haven't figured out how to put a drill bit in the chuck and use Daddy's makita drill to poke holes in the freshly installed drywall in the basement.
Once is funny, but 23 times is absolutely hilarious I guess - enough to stir the parental units from their blissful slumber and send daddy into the third level of the moon upon discovery of their latest home renovation.
After impressing upon them the danger of playing with power tools unsupervised, and explaining why holes in the wall do not add to the fair market value of our home, they are punished accordingly, and we've not had another power tool incidence since.
They have discovered video games.
they love video games.
Their love for video games goes to the extreme. It is a love/hate thing actually - they love playing, but haven't quite figured out that the pacman ghosts are not real, and do not have a personal vendetta against them.
"It's just a game" I'll tell them "They aren't thinking about getting you, they are just run by a computer, they can't think"

It doesn't matter because in their minds those video games are "mean" and there is all sorts of yelling and screaming and throwing things when they lose.
One of the good things about their video game obsession though is that it makes for a great punishment. The very threat of losing video games for an entire day is usually enough to jolt them into whatever behaviour I desire. Not quite enough to get them in bed by 7:30pm, but enough to get them to stop clawing each other's eyes out after school. Baby steps.

Now, onto my story of how Matthew has beome a sophisticated little sneak.
I picked him up from school on Wednesday and he was holding himself - looked like he had to go to the bathroom, so I asked him flat out "do you have to go" and he shook his head and continued to hold himself.
The teacher shrugged and said "I asked him too, and he's been doing that for 10 minutes but insists he doesn't have to go".
I got him home and again he walked into the house and continued to hold himself.
I asked him if he had to go Now, and again he shook his head. This time I used mother's instinct and quickly felt to see what was up - because I had a sneaky suspicion that he was hiding something - and sure enough I felt something odd.

"Matthew - Let me have whatever you are hiding in your pants - Or NO video games!"

He immediately relinquished a small rubber red airplane.
"I wanted it" he told me - already anticipating my reprimand.
"Matthew, that's stealing. this belongs at school, and it will go back to school" (After I disinfect it!)
Minutes later he pulled ANOTHER one out of his pants - and orange one this time, justifying his theivery by telling me that he brought that one home for Duncan.
Nice to know that he shares the spoils of his illgotten gains. Or is he just way too clever, thinking that if someone shares the spoils, that same someone will share the punishment, or hopefully, take the brunt of it.
Oh dear Matthew - We aren't sure how your brain works but we do know that you can't keep those airplanes.

They went back to school the next day with an explanation and my permission that anything short of a full body cavity search was ok prior to letting him leave. It's not the first time he's tried to swipe something, and he's never (to my knowledge) stolen anything from a store. yet.
I have to say though that he does make me laugh with the things he says. He's so totally off the wall sometimes.
Today he told me that his coat was being "bitchy"
"excuse me" I said, aghast that such profanity escaped the lips of my 4 yr old. I know he didn't learn that word from me, and I highly doubt it's in the approved sight word curriculum provided by the school board.
"my hood is being all bitchy" he told me again, "it's twisting up"

The lightbulb went on in my head.

"Oh, you mean it's all BUNCHY"

"yeah"

Phew!