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| See how the light spot in the front... and how short his hair is? Yeah, he cut it to the scalp with scissors. I fixed what I could. |
When Josh was 2 weeks old my dad told me he saw a sparkle in Josh's eye. He said he saw mischief. He said Josh will live on the edge... do without thinking. I protested because Josh was a WAY easier baby than June. He was mellow and serious.
Turns out, my dad was right.
Don't get me wrong, Josh is a good kid. Alone, he's sweet and gentle and loving. But he doesn't think. He is busy. Go go go go go. He's high and love. He's intense.
I bring you to last week:
Three times in 1 week Josh defied logic and faced demise, yet came out unscathed. And all I could do was roll me eyes because of course Josh would pull this stuff...
Instance #1:
We were at the park with friends and while talking, my friend spots Josh. On the slide. On the outside of a slide. The outside of a tunnel slide. Outside the top of a gigantic tunnel slide, many many feet up. Josh was scaling it like Spider Man. Fearless and going about his business. He wasn't trying to be naughty. He wasn't being defiant. He was conquering the task at hand. All I could do was casually walk over to the slide, because really, it's Josh and panicking would do nothing. My friend (a dad, which was perfect because he was taller than me) ran up the jungle gym to the top of the slide. Josh climbed the rest of the way up, and my friend grabbed him to safety.
Instance #2:
Josh was up at 6:02 am that morning. I walked him back to his room and told him to go back to bed, or at least play until I get him out at 7:15 am. All was quiet until just before 7:15, at which point I hear Josh screaming. I saunter into his room, because at this point, Josh screaming/crying/whining just doesn't faze me. He seems to be always doing one of the three. When I get into his room, he's terrified. So I snap out of being annoyed and comfort him. It takes me a few seconds to figure out what he's saying to me... something about black, and fire, and his necklace.
Ohhh, that's it: Josh stuck his necklace and his alarm clock plug into the outlet. That resulted in, apparently, flames and searing said necklace. It also resulted in a charred, black looking outlet. I am able to be cool about it now because we've determined that A. Josh is/was fine. B. No harm was done to the electric or outlet or anything. C. A lesson seemed to be learned. ::sigh::
Instance #3:
About 2 days later we are at the Sand Box Park with Jim and some friends. I'm standing, facing the sandbox, talking to Jim. His back was to the sand box. They have large boulders in the sand that the kids can climb on and jump off, etc. I see Josh climb to one that is about 4 feet high. He simply walks up it and front flips off... into the sand. He landed on his butt and was stunned. He started crying and all I could do was shake my head.
JOSH! This child. Good gravy. Maybe he will become a holy priest or a silent monk or something. I don't want to know what he is going to craft up out in the real world otherwise. It's amazing that I have no grey hair. Josh is exactly the child who would drive them out. He's my trial. Oh, Josh.
I wonder why Josh was given to us because he is certainly something else. What am I supposed to be learning from Josh? Why is he the way he is? I bounce between, Josh-is-Josh to there-is-something-wrong-with-Josh to this-child-is-completely-uncivilized-shame-on-me to defeat to resignation.
He makes for some good stories though. o.O
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