Sometimes I really wonder how the human species has survived this long. Maybe it's just my kids, but honestly there are days that I really wonder how anyone ever decides to have MORE children.
Yesterday was such a day. The boys were exhausted, as they had been up since O'dark thirty. When we put them down for their nap, they of course got all wound up and crazy. They can really egg each other on when they want to, and while it can be cute to listen to over the monitor, it can also make me crazy when I know how badly they need to rest. (Especially when I too desperately need a nap.) Anyway, after a very long time (maybe 2 hours) of them playing, giggling, unplugging the monitor and air conditioner, etc, we finally put our feet down and separated them. (Actually we had done so already, but they were back together - a long story not worthy of a post.) Kemper stayed in his bed, and Rowan came into our room. Morgan and I were both lying on the bed, trying to get him to settle into a horizontal position. He was having none of that. He kept sliding off the bed, all the while screaming bloody murder and having a major tantrum. After several attempts on our part, he slid off the bed again and started playing with our alarm clock. It's one of those fairly small digital am/fm clock radio alarm clocks, about 5 inches long, maybe 3 inches deep, and an inch or so high. I asked him several times to leave it alone and get back in bed, which he simply wouldn't do. In fact, he picked up the clock by the cord, right near where it meets the clock, swung, and walloped me in the face. Let me just say that for a 2 year old, he managed to really hurt me. (This is the point at which I left the room and went downstairs, allowing Morgan to fight the nap battle.)
Fortunately I woke up this morning and am not bruised from the incident, although I am still sore. The other upside to this event, as Morgan pointed out last night, is that I'm probably one of the few people who can actually claim to have been "clocked upside the head".