Zeplin's World

Cones
As we left the church we walked up some stairs and across the small crosswalk that is painted on the
parking lot's floor. We were headed to our van.
I did not even see them.
But Zeplin did.
Cones.
Three of them.
All three of these traffic cones were knocked over by careless drivers or strong winds.
Or both.
The lot was rather empty, so my stressers were lower than normal as he turned from me and ran to meet them where they were while exclaiming, "cones!".
And then magic happen.
Sweet. Happy. Magic.
He picked each cone up with the concern of a father to his son.
With something like love and gentleness, and a simply good kid doing a simply good thing, he stood
each cone up and practically told each to have a good day. Then he returned to me.
Smile on his face.
Smile on mine.

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When I was preggers with Zeplin

Janary 28
To Build a Trap
My Zeplin, my three year old son, loves to build traps.
Really, they are just barricades.
Zep traps himself inside.
He traps me inside.
He really enjoys trapping his 13 month old brother, Demitri, inside.
Zep calls these barricades traps and inside, we are his victim.
Sometimes these traps come in the shapes of pillows, strategically strewn in a semicircle around the object of his trapping.
Other times an avalanche of toys: balls, books, cars.
It is a stage he is in.
A fun and creative, yet overpowering and domineering stage.

I was preparing lunch.
Both boys were hungry.
On this particular day, they both felt this need to be IN MY FACE.
We had placed a gate between our dining room and kitchen to keep our little men out of the kitchen when need be.
On this day, the two of them simultaneously stood there, grasping onto the gate with clenched fists and shaking it.
But there is more.
Alongside the crash, crash, crash of the gate against the wall, I heard the mourning of children so plagued by starvation that they could only wail and wail and wail some more.
It.
Was.
Loud.

Somewhere in the midst of all the noise and chaos, a light bulb went off inside of my head and I resorted back to what is so familiar so my family and I these days: traps.
I put down the chopping knife.
Gently, I removed the clenched fingers and opened the gate*.
And then I moved it.

I built a trap for myself.
I was my own victim.

We are really blessed to have the space we do in our home. The gate was relocated to the opening between the dining room and the living room.
True, I still heard their sobs. I did not, however, have to watch their sweet faces, all red and tear-streaked.

Tell me, what lengths have you gone to simply finish a task?
Do you hide in your bathroom, where it is socially acceptable to "poop" *wink-wink* for 35 mins when even our Strong Men know we snuck in our phones and are secretly catching up on Facebook? Do you fake that you are in a deep sleep so that your Strong Man helps the screaming Lovie?
Do you forsake your own sleep so that you can catch up on a miniseries and some times even allow your little loves to fall asleep on you because Downton Abbey has no commercial breaks and you can't stand to miss a moment?
How far have you gone?

*This is the gate we use: Summer.
(It is especially nice because it can be manipulated three ways and additional gates can easily be added on.)

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Zeplin at four years

Zep-isms
My Zeplin. He is a three-year old bottle of pure energy, cuddles, and laughs.
He delights us all with his charming dance skills and the uncanny way he lingers just a little too long next to his little brother before said little brother bursts into tears.
Zep, who self-incriminates himself on a daily basis and who's favorite catch-phrase is, "because I wanted to".
Zep, who will eat all the rainbow in ice cream flavors, yogurt by spoon or tube, and bananas he can get his hands on -even those that have brown spots - but will turn his nose up to a stalk of broccoli- even when Big Strong Man and I so SLEUTHLY cover it in melted cheese.
This big kid is the air to my lungs, the smile on my face, and the happiness in my day.
I.
LOVE.
HIM.
SO.
MUCH!!!

Today I wanted to write down, simply for the sake of not EVER forgetting, "Zep-isms". These are fun words or phrases he says -mostly in third person- and are pure awesome.

I decided to file these special moments for him in a separate, private, file but wanted to share this idea with you as my audience.
Do you have a way of remembering life's beautiful (and often hysterical) moments?
It would be wonderful to read some of your ideas.

I hope you enjoyed!
-gomommy

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