Three Firstborns Under One Roof

Mondays are our cleaning days at the Deckers. Duke was a "big" help this monday. His latest nickname is Rooskers and Raskal, so now that you have the memo, you'll know who I am talking about. Monday mornings get a little wet and wild to say the least. It's always when the junk of the weekend is strung through the house and sunday afternoon laziness has hung over into the next day leaving much disaray and clutter throughout our home. Last weekend, Daniel, our shopping "shark" sold his truck and bought the first piece to his new TV area: an entertainment center. Moving the old TV was a dusty process, so ontop of the weekend "hangover" clutter we had a nice layer of dust. Duke and I started in right after our breakfast. We began with the bathrooms. He got a squirt bottle of water and a small towel and went around making himself useful. He did his best to do just as he saw me do with my more serious squirt bottle and nastier looking rag. After we finished the bathroom, got candy for going "teetee" and put away our rags and bottles, we headed to the bedroom to dust. I love swiffer dusting supplies (clearly I am a stay at home mom, because their new duster extenders were the highlight of my week! I suppose I live a sheltered life, but at least it is a dust free shelter Praise the Lord!) Anyhow, Duke got one swiffer Duster and I got the one with the awesome extender (I was oh so hoping he would not notice how much better my new one was than his handmedown and thankfully he didn't object to the arrangement.) We quickly went to dusting. Raskal dusted, knocked over Daddy's sunflower seeds, had used sunflower seeds dug out of his mouth by mommy, and chased Jax, then sat in time out for picking Jax up by his fur. Then it was time to sweep. He got the broom attachment to my dustpan and went to work imitating my every move. The cutest thing to me though happened by Duke's own initiative and creativity when he saw me vacuuming. He ran to get his push "popper" (you remember them, every generation of kids has had one. This one came from a garage sale for a quarter and Lord only knows how old it is.) Here came Rooskers, running in pushing his popper. I would have thought he had moved on past the cleaning theme and was making his own fun, except for now he was motioning it just as though it were a vacuum cleaner. Couple steps forward, stretch your body and pull that popper back; not to mention in rows just like Mommy. This is what happens when three firstborns live under one roof. Shower time was crazy, yet another shower when I get out with a slippery naked toddler, and only one shaved leg. Each time I promise myself I am not ever going to try to shower us both at the same time. Just be dirty till his nap Katie! I tell myself. But the truth is, nap time is sounding all the more like something I want to participate in more than the shower! Oh gross, and too much information. Sorry!
Tuesday I decided that I was going to focus my morning around him entirely. Afterall, he had earned it by focusing his monday morning on my agenda. So we packed a lunch and headed to the zoo. Just he and I. He had a blast, not real sure about the stress levels of the animals after we left, but Duke took and extra long nap which, I might add, is always the indicator that a good time was had...at least by Duke! Walking by the giraffs I said: "Duke, can you say giraff?" Duke responded: "Ball." Oh well, when in doubt go with what you know, right? I did the same thing when I was in school, if I didn't know the answer I would try to talk about something I was educated on. My logic: hopefully they would conclude if I was so informed to know an oratory on topic B, surelly I had been briefed and was way superior to topic A. Nice, Duke; 'the apple doesn't fall far from the tree'.
When I was in the early stages of Duke's pregnancy, I saw a poster about 'Mom and Tot gymnastics.' It was then that I began the arduous process of BEGGING Daniel to fund this wonderful activity. Three weeks ago my dream came true and Duke and I headed off to Mom and Tots at the Gymnastics Sport Center. We love it! It is once a week and about 20 pairs of toddlers and moms. They are adorable! But make no mistake, Duke is by far the cutest. His favorite thing to do is run down the extra long trampoline run and pounce on the mats. It's even better if he almost crashes into three other little toddler boys with the same idea. Heaven forbid he bump into a girl though. They just aren't as tough. At the end of Gymnastics, he and the toddler mob get candy from Tony the bear. I suppose just in case his energy would be run out, they hand each static headed kid a sugar stick to recharge. I just want to know where the espresso line is for the moms. On the drive home Duke downs his sippy cup of water and I down my sportier, more adult looking sippy. And as we walk in the house to see Daddy, who do you think is more tired? That's right, not Duke. Whew! Skip my walk on those days because I know I have definately burned my callories for the rest of the day. When I think of what I had in mind when I saw that poster two and a half years ago, I remember imagining myself (makeup on and hair done of course) gracefully helping my well groomed, well behaved, toddler flip over bars; jumping together on trampolines, etc. Something about jumping over five toddler boys to prevent the tackling of Little toddler Miss Priss, wasn't exactly what I had in mind. In fact, truth be told it's better. This is real life; our house isn't supposed to look like a museum with everything neat as a pin and Duke was never supposed to look like a plastic my little pony for heaven's sake. The fact is I love having a toddler boy. It's crazy and exhasting, but at the end of the day, I've never felt so blessed. Every day I have to love him is a gift, even when the wrapping is a little unorthodox. Lest we grow old and think we've got it all together, God filled the Decker home with the delight of a toddler boy on a mission...Praise His blessed Name and take cover or you might get hit by a sunflower seed filled, static headed, dirty diapered, precious little boy.