The Giggles

I guess my world is completely dependent on my hormones. Right this moment I am watching Brighton sit pretty much on top of Boeing, who WAS peacefully DREAMING, holding my cell phone to Boeing’s head yelling, “Look! Boe Boe! Bwy Bwy’s hand!” 

And since I’ve woken up feeling like a song bird that just got a whiff of spring, I just SMILED and thought, ‘Sooo sweet that he is a) so excited about seeing the picture I took of his hand holding the fake roach I put there for him to freak when he woke up, b) desirous to share his excitement with his baby brother.’

And now he is riding him like a horse saying, “Bouncy Bouncy!” (I did intervene! Boeing is still breathing and happy). AND Brooklyn has now been drug from her bed by a gleeful Brighton yelling, “Waked up Bwook Bwook!!” (And ALL their covers are now on the ground). Brooklyn’s hormones must be on track with mine. She half opened her eyes, smiled and said, “Silly Bry Bry.”

Starling and I have been cracking UP at this little household we’re attempting to manage. I was nursing Boeing in the living room and Brooklyn was on the potty. She was yelling at the TOP of her LUNGS, “MOMMAY!!!!!!! I’m DOOOOOOOOOOONE!!” I obviously had no intention of MOVING. I was quite cozy and had JUST gotten that way for the FIRST time that day. (It was like 8 p.m). I tried yelling back to her something about, “THEN GET OFF!!” BUT by then she had found her chant to be rhythmic and was singing her yell over and over and couldn’t hear ME over herself. (She gets that from her parents that make EVERYTHING into a song. And I mean EVERYTHING). Plus, when I yelled Boeing jumped, unlatched, and then milk went to spraying everything in a five mile radius. Brighton was curiously watching this process unfold. I said, “Bry! Will you go tell sister ‘MOMMY said GET OFF the POTTY if you are DONE.” VERY excited to be given an assignment, he hurriedly ran (right into the hall WALL) regained his balance and took off to the bathroom.

Then I hear, “MOMMMMAY I’m DONE!!!” (still in a sing song voice). And Brighton’s big turn. “Bwook Bwook. Potty.” (In the voice of the Clear Eyes Commercial man. Total deep monotone) NOTHING about what Mommy said but whatever. And they repeat this about ten times. “MOMMAY I’m DONE!” “Bwook Bwook Potty.” “Mommay I’m done!” “Bwook Bwook Potty.”

It sounded like they had invented a toddler rap to me in my half delirium mind frame, and I got so tickled I was laughing Boeing off my lap, which is unfortunate, but when I get tickled about something, the harder I try NOT to laugh, the more funny it becomes. So then I gave up on Boeing, who bless him, is the most patient baby on earth, who just clung to my hip still blinking milk out of his eyes while I went to peak in on Potty Rhapsody.

Brooklyn was yelling using one hand as a mic and the other as a cheerleading tool while Brighton danced around the toilet, rather bent his knees and moved back and forth like a gorilla. This lasted until Brighton caught sight of the spray bottle on top of the sink. And soaked Brooklyn, who couldn’t escape. (Which is how EVERY bathroom venture ends. Brighton can’t WAIT to have a trapped target to spray. At least it was water this time. He sprayed her down with mean green last week. Her outfit now has pretty pink bleach spots. Glad I was blissfully happy THAT day or Brighton may not have hands).

And AJ! Dear boy. We were at Chic-Fil-A eating lunch and AJ said he always hears something that sounds like someone knocking on the front door. Starling nonchalantly said, “Ah, yeah. That’s just the man in the attic.” And continued stuffing his face. I kind of laughed and continued slurping my High C. And I don’t know how long it took me to realize AJ’s eyes were about to plop out on the table, but at some point I did notice.

 “Are you for REAL?!” he finally choked out. Starling was OBVIOUSLY going to continue because he started with, “You know that little door in Brighton’s room?” But, I, not wanting to wake up with FOUR children in my bed, quickly SQUASHED the story. I mean, really, you don’t mess with a kid that locks every door in the house, then locks the little chain thing (that I’ve only ever seen in movies but our doors weirdly have them. The ones we haven’t yet replaced).  And THEN pushes five gallon paint buckets in front of them. No. You stick to scaring the Starling’s of the world. And occasionally your one year old with fake roaches…

“There are NO people in our attic or anywhere else in our house for that matter. We bless all of our homes when we move in and every night we pray for safety. Our house is very safe.” (So long as you don’t trip over random tools, step on a nail, or electrocute yourself). But I didn’t add that. AND then a thought occurred to me.

“A bad spirit would have to be INVITED into our home.” AJ’s eyes bulged again. “How do you do THAT?”

“Well, bad music, bad movies, even looking at bad stuff on the internet….”

“I’ve got to clear out my music!! I’ve got to get me some Christian songs!”

What a lovely idea that he came up with! All by himself. J

I have to say, parenting is kind of a trip. I actually have no idea what forms of entertainment could possibly compare to a day’s worth of THE Johnson FAM-I-Ly! (Which has its own song… well SEVERAL songs that we bust out randomly). Despite the crappy pay of zero dollars an hour, being a stay-at-home mom pretty much ROCKS!