Homeostasis: n. a relatively stable state of equilibrium or a tendency toward such a state between the different but interdependent elements or groups of elements of an organism, population or group.
Nothing is going on here. And by nothing, I mean everything. I am still making lunches, washing clothes, and changing diapers, which seems like nothing; and through all the nothing, I am putting my heart and soul into my dear ones, which is everything. School is winding down for the year, family members are graduating and moving into new phases of their lives, sisters-in-law and friends are gestating, but here at The HomeFront, we are preserving the status quo. And we like that just fine.
So what is the status quo around here? Let's check in with the company members, shall we?
Baby Girl: Her passion for all things paper-related continues unabated. While she will leave a lovingly prepared tray of finger foods virtually untouched, she remains compelled to ingest anything that has the potential to block her trachea and force her mother to frantically try to recall the few moments of infant Heimlich instruction she received from her husband. The real trouble is that she's crafty - and I don't mean in a Martha Stewart make-your-own-potato-stampers kind of way. She knows, unequivocally, that I do not condone the paper/plastic bag fetish, and it has made her into a furtive 11 month old. It goes a little something like this: Baby Girl will be crawling around, trolling the floor for any tasty tidbits of string or hair, when she will spot something even better. The glossy corner of a Ranger Rick beckons to her from the covered magazine basket. She will crawl over, all nonchalant, like ehh, maybe I'll just see what's happening over here. Then, and this part's a kicker, she will sit right next to the basket for a few minutes and wave at me and say, in her insouciant way, heya mama. She is trying to hypnotize me with her cuteness, but I remain unmoved because I know the next move. She will snake her little hand out to the basket and slip her little fingers under the wicker lid, where she will proceed to rip off one tantalizingly shiny corner. This she will clutch in her paw, as she takes off on all fours in search of a quiet corner where she can consume her snack. I will follow her, and she knows the jig is up. So, like any good fugitive caught with contraband, she will cram it hurriedly into her mouth and try to swallow the evidence. I will catch her, flip her onto her back, and pull the glossy paper from the roof of her mouth, while she tries to maim me with her tiny razor teeth. She will cry for a few minutes, and then resume the hunt for paper. Repeat this scene about twenty times per day.
The Boy: He is in a tizzy over the end of his school year. So to compensate for the loss of security he found in his routine, he has decided to really apply himself to driving his older sister insane. He will walk over to her elaborately designed play area, take his toe and move one piece about 6 inches to the left of its original location. This will send her into a paroxysm of rage, and he will stare at her with a bemused look on his face. To top that, he goes all Charles Boyer and gaslights her. While she is at school, he will go into her room and rearrange a few things on her dresser. When she comes home, I catch her shaking her head, saying "I know I put it right here before school." Meanwhile, The Boy has made himself very scarce. Clever, no?
Older Girl: One word: Horses! It must be the age, because Older Girl, her friends, and her cousin are all horse crazy - and for Older Girl the emphasis is on the crazy. I may be a huge supporter of a great imagination, but by 4:30 in the afternoon, I'm pretty much done with all the whinnying and foot stamping that goes on around here. There is a reason why 5:00 is cocktail hour. I have signed her up for Horse Camp for a week this summer, where she will learn to ride. She will also learn how to shovel horse poop. Should be a good test of her devotion, don't you think?
Rob and Aimee: See above, because that's pretty much what we are doing. And it's all good.
Time for me to go find an adult beverage and toast homeostasis. G'night, kids!
You might consider feeding baby girl sushi seaweed. Or maybe putting it in your magazine rack. Looks like glossy green paper. :)
ReplyDeleteHomeostasis is highly underrated I think. I was just thinking that I was quite content with our current status when I was driving home tonight. Praise God for nothing to say!
ReplyDeleteLOL! Status quo is good, and the end of the school year will be enough disruption for all. Frankly, I'm dreading it--because Big Brother gets cranky with nothing to do, and Middle Sister wants a friend over every second, and then of course there's our 5-year-old "extra child" who's here all the time visiting Little Brother....
ReplyDeleteHa, ha, ha! I laugh now while we only have one child.
ReplyDeleteSounds like its time to move the magazine basket. And, gee, I'd think you would have a little more sympathy for Older Girl. Didn't you have younger brothers driving you nuts at home too? :)
That paper-eating fetish is just too funny. Imagine such forethought and planning at such a tender age - she will surely grow up to rule the world.
ReplyDeleteThis is such a great post! TheBoy sounds pretty devious - the "man-ster" like I call BoyBoy. Baby girl sounds like a sweetie, but pretty sneaky! Older Girl sounds like my oldest - horse insane. I remember doing this, too, but she's taken it into obsession.
ReplyDeleteHere's to homeostasis.
I agree with 4andcounting. Homeostatis is perfect. What nice feeling it is...
ReplyDelete