I love my son, I love my son....

I have to keep saying that to myself right now. It is my new mantra for the day.

Let me set the scenario for you: I was sitting in the middle of the floor in the living room, folding clothes. Jason was in the bedroom watching the Ryder Cup (that golf-obsessed man set his alarm clock so that he could watch it when it started at 6 am! On a Saturday! I was not too thrilled to hear that blaring so early. Anywho!), Sammi was on the couch watching cartoons, and Joshua was playing with his cars and trucks on the coffee table. All was well in the Cantrell household this beautiful Saturday morning.

Sammi got up and all I heard was "Josh, no!" I turned around and saw Josh behind me holding his sippy cup (one of those disposable ones) upside down and milk was dribbling out of it. At first I just said "Josh, no sir. We don't hold our cups like that. See the milk coming out?" You know, in my normal, calm, soothing, mommy voice. Then Sammi said "Mom, look at the table" and then I look at the table. I had one of those movie special effects moments where the rest of the room went away and I had a super-zoom effect on the table. There was milk EVERYWHERE. I mean EVERYWHERE. He had several Little People toys on there, a stack of kid books, some magazines/catalogs, mail, a large round candle in the middle....all of it covered in milk. I was so freaked out that I was speechless. Me, speechless. I know, that doesn't happen much, so you can see how upset I was. I didn't even know where to begin to clean it up! And how did I not hear this taking place right behind my back?

First things first, punish the little criminal. No trial needed, we saw him with the weapon in his hand, standing by the scene. Case closed, he is now in jail. Well, if you call taking him to his room and making him stay in there with the door closed jail, then it's jail. He cannot stand to be in his room with the door closed unless he is sleeping. So this is punishment. He keeps opening the door and then I bellow in my low voice "close the door" and then he does, with a lot of screaming and crying.

Sammi, bless her heart, offered to help me clean it up. She has been a big helper lately. Several times a day she says "can I help?" It is so sweet. So this morning, I most certainly took her up on that! It was a mess. As we picked up different items off of the table, more milk just dripped from it. It was as if an entire gallon of milk came out of that cup!

The bright side to this, if there is one, is now the table is completely cleared off, minus the candle. The books are back on the shelf where they belong, the mail is where it belongs, and my magazines and catalogs are in the trash.....I didn't need to read more or order anything, did I? And those disposable sippy cups will NEVER be in the hands of my precious son.

I think I now understand why some animals eat their young. :)