Who Is A Troublemaker With A Capital "T"???

Who is the Mommy who has been depleted of all her energy over the past two days?


I AM!!!!

Who is the child who has been zapping Mommy of all her energy, (excluding any child in utero)?


HE IS!!!

l
l
l
v


What? A face like this? Say it ain't so Ate! Did you finally enter your "terrible twos" at age 2 1/2? And what exactly have you been up to?



Did you think I would believe you when I stumbled upon this scene and asked you, "Ate... did you open the brand new container of minuscule, yellow, soup croutons and dump them all out on my freshly vacuumed basement carpet to make "snack time" into "fun time"? - And you answered,

"NOOOOPE"

Mommy's are not stupid Ate. Unless you count the fact that Mommy left you unattended, and ignored the familiar and very telling eerie silence through the house for just a bit too long.

But after just cleaning up the collage mess you made of years worth of photos, and then realizing you took advantage of this time I spent reorganizing the photo cabinet by emptying four toy bins of oddly shaped, sharp toys onto the kitchen floor, so you could use said bins, to climb up and reach the markers that you then used to decorate the garbage can - all of which I had to spend valuable and scarce energy to remedy, I thought I could use a few minutes to recharge my batteries.

But I was quite wrong - on both fronts.

A) Mommy's batteries CAN NOT be recharged. For starters.... because I have no batteries.

And...

B) A few minutes = this...



And when I ask you, what you are doing,

"Ummmmmmmmmm Nuffeeng"

is only going to cause me more suspicion.

So my little Troublemaker with a capital "T", without energy, Mommies are useless in the

"play with me"

department.

And yet, after all your trouble making, it is so hard for me to discipline you, and I have to remind myself ...

YOU WILL NOT BE A MAMMA'S BOY

YOU WILL NOT BE A MAMMA'S BOY

YOU WILL NOT BE A MAMMA'S BOY...

Now, when I put you in time out, I do not want to find you emptying the tissues from their boxes instead. When I send you to sit on the bottom step for two minutes - one for each year of your life, please don't go off to Aba's (daddy's) study to "fix" the "cumpooter", because screw drivers do not belong in USB ports.

I am running short on energy, and I really need it.

I really, really need it to capture you in my arms and plant the biggest smooches on your droopy cheeks and lay on you the tightest squeezes, that warm my heart - my beautiful, energy zapping, Troublemaker with a capital "T".