Mondays

Monday. I was really looking forward to Monday morning when I went to bed. I woke up excited and ready to start our day. I was motivated. I even showered first thing. I was off to a great start. However, by the time breakfast was half over I decided that my son was going to give me a run for my money. It looked as though it was going to be a long day. You know, a mom can just tell these things. I can’t even remember what he was doing, but it was irritating me. He might have been chewing the leg off of the chair or something. This kid, he is, well…quirky. The kid takes anything and everything apart.

Exhibit A:

I mean that’s good and fine. We are homeschoolers after all. But the boy, he can be down right destructive. I am talking about strange unexplainable compulsive things like, chewing the rubber tires off of every toy car he owns. I am just glad the tires on my minivan won’t fit in his mouth. He displays other oddities such as eating hair. He has been eating hair since he had the dexterity to grasp, pull and jam a wad of  hair in his little slobbery mouth. Mostly it was my hair. But now that I look back I can remember the girls telling me that “Mo ommmm  Payyyyyton is eating my hair againnnnn- uh!”. I would find hairs wrapped around his binky. (wanna see how he got it wrapped around the binky?) It goes right through the digestive system as well, if you know what I mean. I don’t think I ever changed a diaper of his that didn’t have hair in it. While potty training him it would get stuck and the poo would just dangle above the water. He would hollar for me “Mom! It’s stuck again!”. Give me a break. He started having tummy aches. The doctor even warned him that if he didn’t stop he could have problems and have to have surgery. He was 3. That didn’t help. From the hair he moved on to anything chewy. You know, like Barbie feet, baby doll fingers, those little balls with the nubby things on them, basically anything plastic he could get his teeth on now has chew marks in it. Or has been completely eaten. The girls can’t keep a decent Pet Shop in the place. Army men are out of the question. His Fisher Price Kid Tough T.V looks like a dog chewed on it. I swear he has nearly eaten all the “tough” off of it. I have finally admitted defeat and packed up all the plastic. I mean surely all that BPA and whatnot is going straight to his bloodstream. Who knows what kind of havoc that will reek on his little growing body and brain? And really he is cute.  He is the most amazingly charming boy you will ever meet. There is not a person around that doesn’t like this kid. He is pretty cool for a five year old. Even if this is coming from his mother. With four sisters, he is going to make a fantastic husband to one very lucky woman one day. I want grand kids one day. I have to figure out a way to put a stop to this!

Ahem.

Through out the day I will notice him chewing. “Payton, what do you have in your mouth now?” I say with exasperation. He says “I don’t know” and spits out some random wad of yarn or unidentified plastic something. (because he really doesn’t know what it is- no one does) I ask him “why would you put something in your mouth if you don’t know what it is?”. Shrug.

His fingernails are bitten down to the bleeding quick. He chews off the skin around the sides of his fingers. I am pretty sure he is going to lose the tip of his finger one day. You know, gnaw it off like an animal stuck in a trap gnaws of its own leg to be set free. He is not a nervous kid or anything. He is an other-wise normal, happy kid. As normal as you can be coming from our family that is. We come with our own disclaimer.

Oh yeah, back to Monday. After breakfast I sent the kids outside to burn off some energy before we start doing school. We come inside. Of course I notice him chewing on something. “Payton, what is in your mouth?”. He opens his mouth. Unidentified something. Grossness, like chewed up nuts or something. “What is that?” I say. “Nothing” he says. I look down at the table to find a half eaten milk bone. You know, the kind that dogs eat. We don’t even have a dog.

I am so glad it is Tuesday.