May

Wow. It is finally May. The time of year every teacher looks forward to and every parent of school-aged children probably dreads. Secretly, I'm sure. Summer vacation is just around the corner. Can I get an amen? Every August, I think back to May and wonder why I didn't feel more excited and relaxed knowing that I was about to get some time off. But every year, May is one of the busiest times at school and there's no time to just sit back and bask in the sweet reality that school is going to be over soon.

This year, May seems even more busy, especially since I'm trying to finish things up in my classroom but also begin to prepare for being in the library. It feels like I have too many things on my mind and no one thing is getting enough of my attention and focus. I'm pretty much scatter-brained right now. Not that scatter-brained isn't my normal day-to-day mentality, it just seems I've just taken it up a notch or two lately. Not good. And my procrastination level is at an all-time high. Also not good. I've got clothes in the laundry room that have been waiting to be ironed for weeks. Oh, I still iron every so often right now, but there are two shirts that I avoid each time I begin to iron. Those shirts have been sitting there since early April. I do not want to iron them. They're button down shirts that come out of the dryer so wrinkly, you would think they had been wadded up in a ball for years. I despise ironing them. In fact, I usually won't wear them because I know that I will end up having to iron them again. What's worse is, there is a pair of shorts that has been hanging in the laundry room, all wrinkly, since last July. No, really. July. But, in my defense, when I took them out of the dryer all those many months ago, I knew that I would soon be too fat to fit into them since I was pregnant. So, I just left them hanging there. Through the fall and winter months every once in awhile I noticed them, hanging there amongst sweaters and pants. But, I knew I didn't need them at the time, so I figured, "why bother?". And now, those shorts just seem like a permanent fixture in my laundry room. I don't know what I would do if nothing was hanging on my clothing rod. Maybe I'll get all crazy one day and try it.

Things at home have been a little chaotic as well. Cale, the bundle of joy that he is, has been a little tempermental lately. Okay, a lot tempermental. Anything and everything causes an all-out temper tantrum right now. It feels like he cries twenty times a day. His crying, screaming really, is usually accompanied by kicking of legs and flailing of arms and, if things are really terrible, occassionally flopping face down on the floor. And it's over ridiculus, seemingly unimportant things. Let him stick a piece of ice to his tongue, pull skin off his lip as he rips the ice away, and have blood dripping down from the wound...no tears. But, let me cut his Pop-Tart in half in an attempt to make it easier to eat...and all heck breaks loose. He's hard to understand right now. One thing I know is that he wants complete independence. C-O-M-P-L-E-T-E. He puts things that I open for him back in the wrapper just so he can be the one to take them out. He must open every door himself and shut every door himself, and if I forget, I'm in for a punishment. Punishment in the form of a two-year-old temper tantrum. Yikes, the worst kind of punishment.

Sunday, as we were about to eat dinner on the back porch, I sat Keaton down in his walker...not that he can actually make it move now, but he loves to be sitting up where he can see all the action. As we were eating, Cale got up and started playing. I didn't think much of it until I looked up just in time to see "Baby Hulk" lifting Keaton's walker up and flipping it over on its side. With Keaton in it. On the concrete. I have never moved so quickly, but I was still too late. I watched as the walker landed and Keaton's head, thankfully slowly, hit the hard, concrete porch. I'll tell you the truth I just about went all "Mama Hulk" on Cale. I think I even turned green. I grabbed Keaton and swatted Cale several times while yelling, "You can't do that! You can't ever do that!" Of course Keaton was screaming and then Cale was crying. Thank goodness, no one was really hurt. I think Keaton was just a little stunned. What if Cale would've pushed Keaton off of the porch? It makes me sick to think about it.

Just when I thought Keaton was safe. Lesson learned: I guess a baby is never safe with a two-year-old around. Never.