Nathaniel is destructive. We've known this for a long time. From the time he could move around on his own, our house has become a story. The window sills (where he chewed off the dry wall) show how tall he was from foot to jaw when he learned to pull himself up. The brown stains on the carpet remind us that he does not react to augmentin very well. The broken window in the breakfast nook is evidence of his strength. The pink spots on his bedroom carpet show his love for drawing. I could go on and on, but I think you get the idea.
The latest chapter in our story-book house was written yesterday. I came up with the SuperMomish idea of planting herb seeds with the boys. I was prepared. I had the clear cups, the soil, the seeds, the spray bottles, and the Sharpie Markers with which I would write the name of the herb planted in each cup. We had a great time talking about the seeds, guessing how long they would take to grow, how the herbs might taste, over-watering the rosemary, and getting dirt everywhere.
When we were finished, I let the boys play while I cleaned off our patio. Several times, I looked at the Sharpie pens on the ground and thought, "I better pick those up before Nate gets his hands on one of those." Well, if you're a mom of young kids, you know how easy it is to think of something and then get side-tracked.
I get side-tracked easily. And often. I picked up our trash, put away the garden tools, and put the leftover soil in one of our malnourished potted plants. I was just about ready to go in and get out of the heat when I saw it: Scribbles and letters (?) on our patio concrete. Black ink and white concrete. Matt's beloved patio. I was horrified.
Step back a moment... my husband is terrific. He is also very observant and very house-proud. He's gotten better about accepting certain messes. He's learning to over-look toys, sticky spots on the floor, and minor carpet damage. Black, permanent marker on the patio? Well, that is too much... even for me.
I gasped when I saw the ink and said, "
Nathaniel Cooper Jones... did
YOU do this?" My cute, sparkly-eyed boy said , "Sowwry, Mommy. It was an attident." Ha!! Accident? I don't think so... but he's used to being able to write on the concrete with chalk. Do three year olds understand why one writing tool is OK and the other is not? I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Strange thing is, in addition to the scribbles, it looked like he had written the word "kill" with the pen. Unless he's a child prodigy-- a psychotic one-- it was coincidental. I know doing such a thing would never cross Andrew's mind (and his writing is way too messy) so I was a little fascinated by Nate's graffiti. Not fascinated enough to keep it, though.
I tried everything I could think of. I scrubbed with a deck brush and water. I added dish soap to the mix. I tried rubbing alcohol (I know... but I was desperate!), Comet, and finally paint thinner. While it faded a bit, nothing took the ink away completely. I spent at least an hour in heat of the day trying erase Nate's artwork.
I decided to inform Matt by calling him at work. Not only does he work at a church, he works with lots of women... women who are moms. Matt took the news very well. He felt certain that it would eventually fade away. I think he's also gotten used to Nate's...um...
impact on our home.
My Nathaniel... he has certainly added so much flavor to our lives! He has a bright smile, eyes that shine, and a curious nature. He can be naughty on purpose but often, he does things because it looks like fun. He has been warned very sternly that he must not write on anything other than paper... unless he uses chalk.
Sigh... what's next? I'll keep you posted!
By the way... in case you're wondering about the caution tape, the boys love to put that up all over the yard. Seven bucks at Home Depot and keeps them entertained for hours.
