We had a lazy day yesterday. Well that is to say Connor did as I only insisted he do very few activities as I went through a box of four Mr. Clean magic erasers. I know it sounds like a horrible thing to do to yourself when you are recovering from a frustrated overwhelmed mood. However coming home in that mood and seeing your house looking as if it is occupied by a pack of bachelors rather than a family of five has an unpleasant effect to say the least.Sparkling surfaces and fingerprint free walls were mine! Most toys and therapy devices were in their proper place. I wasn't able to find my regular CD I would listen to while cleaning but was instead treated to a concert of Connor making up his own tunes. I couldn't understand but very few words but the melody was nice.
I suspect that my frenzy of deep cleaning must have popped up on my mother's radar, as that afternoon she arrived with laundry in tow. Connor is glad to see her and demonstrates for her how to run through the house like a mad person. He comes to a stop and points at me "Mommy"
he states, then points a finger at his Grandma "Mmm..mmm".
"Mamaw." I help identify. He has said it before but it seems he wants to make sure he has it right.
"Mommy." He points at me.
"Mamaw." He points at her.
"Yea!! Good job Connor!!" She claps and squeaks.
Happy with himself he continues to fly through the house with a huge smile on his face. When she is done with her laundry and ready to leave, Connor comes over to watch her go. She steps out the door and turns around to tell me to lock the door back because it wouldn't occur to me otherwise. She bends low and asks "Connor can you tell Mamaw bye-bye?" He runs forward at full speed and slams the door almost on her nose. She pushes the door back open.
"Bye-bye Connor."
"Bye-bye."
"Can Mamaw have a kiss." He leans forward and with his lips loosely puckered to oblige.
She thanks him and says her good bye's again then turns away. He takes off full speed again.
SLAM! and the door just misses her back side.
As I lock the chain back in place Connor is locking the doorknob and deadbolt singing "turn, turn , turn." We are now less concerned with working on fine motor and more worried about modulation. I consider a digital lock with keypad but he is good with numbers. I take solace in the fact he isn't near tall enough to reach the lock at the top of the door. Soon enough though I fear we will rival Fort Knox in security.
