Ankle Biters and House Rules.

If there is one thing I have learned on the parental roller coaster is that the ankle biters will eventually pull together a revolution to over throw you. Case in point, I start out my mornings making breakfast, starting laundry before the Oklahoma 400 degree summer day begins, and dishes. The mountain of dishes that for some reason NO ONE claims to have assembled in the sink. What the hell. 

Yesterday while beginning my robotic routine, I asked Tuck to make his bed. Just try. Now granted he has a full size bed. It’s up against the wall and his arms to legs ratio has not quite balanced out.

Throw the blankets over the pillows and call it good -Nope. Don’t have the equipment to pull it off captain. 

After a battle of wills from across the house, cause doesn’t every 4 year old have a fierce entitlement to an opinion at 7am, I convinced him that whatever he felt was complete I am sure I would approve.

Just make the bed brother. 

I don’t make many house rules but IF I did they would be:

1. Make your bed. 

2. Pick up your land mine of toys.

(There is pain. There is excruciating pain. And there is stepping on a lego.)

3. Shower. Dear God. If I can smell you please. I beg you. AND use soap.

4. Have some manners.

(Only you, and maybe a few buddy’s will find it hysterical if you poot in public. Just be careful. Mama poots too and I. swear. I. will. embarrass you worse than you will me. It’s my job dude.)

There is one simple thing that Tuck and I strongly agree on.

Running. Get your wiggles out. Chasing koopa troopa’s with our jet packs. Whatever you call it. We dig it. 

And since Tuck would be the poster child for the “SQUIRREL!” scene from the movie UP. We. do. it. a. lot. 

At 4’1″ and 55 pounds Tuck is going to be a hoss. But he has the endurance and stamina that really shocked me when we first began running together last year after he finally grew out of his jogging stroller. And I literally could not push him up hills anymore. 

In one week he is running his 5th 5K and everyday he asks me if it’s race day.

And everyday I tell him “You betcha!” just to save my sanity and work off his energy.

I’m cruel. I know. 

I always end every run with a treat. This particular day we took a different route and ended up at a new park.

He gets a chance to show off his rad monkey bar skills for the ladies and I continue my reign as the coolest mama who knows where all the secret playgrounds are. High fives to Mama networking and my GPS.

Xoxo