Typical H

J was out of town last weekend. Again. So I braved taking the kids to see Kung Fu Panda 2. It was H's first time going to the movies. At first he was enamored with the popcorn and candy. Then he oohed and aahhed a bit over the panda bear onscreen. But after 45 minutes, he was no longer impressed and started wandering the isles a bit. I let him because there weren't many people in the theater. Thankfully, the movie wasn't long and extra thankfully, he didn't pull the fire alarm until after the movie was over. That's right. The fire alarm. Oh, H. So typical. I have to say that I kind of think it's the movie theater's fault. Who puts fire alarms within easy reach of a 23-month-old with the only trigger being that you have to lift up on it? Please.

I have decided that after being mother to H, I should hire out my now refined disaster-avoidance mentality: before I get in the shower or even leave the room, I do a thorough prevention scan, thinking, "What can I move, tie down, throw away, put up, etc, so that H does not create a disaster." As you might imagine, living in such a heightened state of awareness all the time is pretty exhausting. But if it can come in handy by making me money at movie theaters, it will have all been worth it.

Actually, it usually is all worth it because another thing that is typical H is his kissing, especially since he figured out he could make noises while kissing. Even better. The boy's a lover AND a fighter. If he has to be the latter, at least he is also the former. We can't get enough of his kisses and there are oh so many to go around these days.