First Comes Love, Then Comes Marriage

Demon Baby came into my office yesterday, dressed (surprising) and soaking wet (alas, not so surprising).

"Why are you wet?" I asked.

"It's nothing."

My first instinct was to look up, since I have extensive ceiling damage from other "nothing" little incidents with water in the upstairs bathroom.

"Please tell me you didn't flood anything."

"I didn't."

"So why are you wet?"

"I combed my hair with water so I could look extra handsome."

"Well, you were very successful. You look EXTREMELY handsome!"

"Good. Because we're getting married."

"Who?"

"Me and you."

"Okay. I think I would like being married to you."

"You know how to get married?"

"Yeah. I've tried it before."

"First you find a beautiful girl. Then you make out. Then you marry her."

"Make out? Who told you about making out?"

He looked at me quizzically. "You don't know about making out? Everyone knows about making out. I'm four, and I know about making out. It means you kiss someone for a really long time. Then you get married."

"All righty, then."

"I love you SO SUPER MUCH."

"I love you too."

"Can you make me a peanut butter sandwich?"

"Sure."

Within a few minutes, he had forgotten all about the wedding. But having four kids, including one adult and one teenager . . . with an 11-year-old in middle school, I know the days of thinking I'm wonderful are numbered. So for today . . . I am engaged to a wonderful Demon Baby who is very handsome and loves me SO SUPER MUCH.

Actual Conversation Today While Blowing Soap Bubbles

"Demon Baby, can I have a kiss?"

"Nope."

"No? What are you kidding me? Not one kiss?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

"'Cause today I feel like loving you, but I don't feel like kissing you."

Actual Conversation When Demon Baby Saw Me After My Trip

"I missed you a lot!"

"I missed you, too, Demon Baby."

"I missed you more. I missed you thirty bucks cash worth."

"Is that a lot?"

"YEAH! It's thirty bucks cash!!!"

The Many Faces of Demon Baby

As a writer, I don't take photos of my kids like normal moms. No . . . I tend to take a picture and then think "What does it SAY?" This top one, to me, says, "Yes, I am cute and I know it."

While this one says, "HEY LADY, I told you ONE picture, not two!" [He is camera shy.]

But this last one is classic Demon Baby, "Come near me with that camera and I'll knock you out with my shovel and bury you until the tide comes in."

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True story . . . I think it would not be normal if I didn't occasionally wonder . . . "Am I doing ANYTHING right with this kid?" After all, this weekend alone, he painted my bathroom with blue toothpaste, found a hole in the family room couch and pulled ALL the stuffing out of it to make "snowballs" with it, broke one glass candleholder (this is what I get for not having a house made entirely of rubber with him), and tried to freak me out by pretending to swallow a handful of marbles. Ha, ha. Yeah, he keeps me laughing all right. If he does THAT at age 4, I wonder what he will pretend to do at age 12. I shudder.

Anyway, this weekend, he took a bath (but didn't wash his hair, which is something I only do once a week since it involves my wrestling him like a WWF fighter). As I toweled him off, we went and sat in the big chair in my bedroom and I wrapped him up and we snuggled for a while. As we did, I kept putting my fingers through his wet hair, which caused it to spike straight up--and I said, "You look really cute with your hair spiked."

"STOP!" he shrieked.

"What?"

Suddenly there was a torrent of tears.

"What is the matter, Demon Baby? You don't like your hair spiked?" I started flattening it down.

"I don't want you to spike my hair."

"How come?"

"Because then I won't look just the way I am. And you always say you love me JUST the way I am."

After I brushed away a stray tear, I thought, "All right, if that's the message he's getting . . . I must be doing something right."

Flowers for Mom

God is brilliant.

He makes newborns smell delicious and look so perfect so that you really don't mind a year of sleep deprivation.

He makes children so beautiful--every child so beautiful--so you won't mind the crayon on the walls, the times they throw up on your shoes, the fact that when little boys learn to pee standing up they generally miss the bowl a lot, the exhaustion, the sheer amount of laundry those little creatures can create, the oatmeal in your hair, the time they fed Cheerios to the computer.

And when you have a Demon Baby, I tend to think God endows such a child with something extra special. A sparkle. A way of curling around your heart so you forget the fact that last night, when you climbed into bed, you discovered he left you an earthworm on your pillow, which he had apparently stuck in his pocket along with these beautiful flowers.

I really do adore this kid.

Little Rabbit

He has moments of pure adorableness. Given how much of a Demon he is, this is a good thing because he tries the patience of the entire family, and we all need these "Aw, he's so cute moments" so we don't kill him.

Today, "monsters and bears" were apparently roaming my house. He was fighting them with imaginary swords, and he came running into my office.

"Come with me so I can keep you safe."

"What, Little Demon?"

"Come!" (He was clinging to my legs for all it was worth.)

"I'm okay. Monsters don't like my office."

"No, come with me, My Little Rabbit."

"Little Rabbit?"

He put his head on my lap. "Yes, you are my Little Rabbit and I love you."

Of course, my heart melted. "Why don't you go see Older Sister?" (She was in the next room.) "Maybe she can come with you. I have to finish this chapter. She can be your Little Rabbit too."

"No, she can't."

"Why?"

"YOU are my Little Rabbit. SHE is my Little Turtle."

I just love him.

Super Dog

Today it is COLD here. And as I got the littlest of our dogs ready to go out, Demon Baby said to me, "You need to get Dreamer dressed."

I thought he meant in a doggie sweater because it was so cold. But I also know better than to assume anything with him, so I asked, "Why?"

"Because."

"Why? Because it's so cold? We don't have a coat for Dreamer. She has fur. She'll be okay."

"No. She needs a Superman suit."

"A what?"

"A Superman suit. Pants and a red cape."

"Why? To keep her warm?"

He looked at me as if I was CLEARLY the stupidest woman on earth.

"No. So she can fly."

Of COURSE.