Tonight's dinner started off like any other left-over night.... scooping odds and ends from the fridge onto plates and warming them in the microwave.... When we all had finally migrated in to sit down at the table only one was crying... (Jaden only had a 20 minute nap) Havilah was napping peacefully in the pack and play next to the table.... there really were no signs of what was about to transpire in the next 15 minutes...
Isaiah slammed my hand down into the table while we sang our prayer... nothing new there either. I would say the first noticeable difference was when Drew got up to get the salt grinder from the counter, which I had just filled to the brim 2 days ago, and on his way back to the table the lid came off and salt crystals went scattering in a million directions as it crashed to the floor. But no worries, daddy to the rescue with the dust pan to see if he could rescue said salt crystals.. no avail, too much dirt on the floor. Mission abandoned until after dinner, half the crystals remained on the floor. My dearest Jaden, who had been startled from his tears by the crashing salt grinder, but who was still feeling a bit testy, began spitting out spoonfuls of peas. In between spats he was saying the worst two words he could think of over and over: "Stupid Satan. (pea spitting) Stupid Satan..... Stupid Satan." (more pea spitting. But really, warmed up peas aren't my favorite either, buddy.) The food spitting and potty mouth could not be stopped, so daddy to the rescue again. Jaden was scooped up and sent to the living room for a time out until he could eat/talk nicely. Just as Daddy came back to the table Isaiah spilled his (full) glass of milk all over his lap and the floor. *Cue hysteria* Isaiah, wailing at the top of his lungs, jumping out of his seating, screaming that his pants were wet. No worries yet again, daddy to the rescue once more, this time with the brilliant idea that Isaiah could just take off his pants and finish dinner in his undies. Daddy even demonstrated by taking off his own pants so that Isaiah wouldn't be alone in his half-nakedness. (Perfectly rational parenting, right?) Isaiah didn't like the idea however, so with his pants around his ankles he went poutily shuffling through the salt crystal mine field to go sulk on the steps.
Let's review. So at this point we have one in time out in the living room, one miraculously sleeping through the madness nearby, a daddy in his underwear, a boy on the stairs with pants around his ankles, and Drew and I remaining at the table.
Back to the story. Shaun couldn't leave Isaiah sitting in sadness on the steps, so he took him to his room to change his pants. In an effort to stem the tears and spark happiness in Isaiah once more, Shaun, the good daddy he is, challenged Isaiah to a race back to the table. It seemed as though it had worked, Isaiah was all laughter as he ran down the stairs to his seat... but alas, maybe it was the salt crystals, maybe it was the milk puddle, maybe a combination of the two, or perhaps we'll never know.... but just as the momentarily happy boy made it to his seat something caused a slip and a crash and a slam in which he and the chair collided, the chair won, and Isaiah was again sobbing on the floor. This time the commotion woke Havilah, I began breast feeding at the table, Shaun plopped Isaiah back in his seat, Jaden came in from his time out, and we were again re-united at the table as before, only the daddy was now in his underwear.
And then, when dinner was FINALLY over, there was that kiss, mid-kitchen, dirty plates in hand, the one where I leaned in close and said I wouldn't want to do this kinda crazy with anyone else.
And now, by this current point in time and as I finish writing this all down, the salt is swept up, the dinner dishes cleared and washed, the three little boogers (boys) have been bathed and are about to get in bed, the baby is fully nursed, we are quite exhausted, and memories have been made that will have us laughing and wishing we could go back when we are 90 I'm sure.
I say it all the time, but these sure are the days.