VivaCity

Tomorrow marks dear Julian's first day in a new classroom. Big Boys 'R Us. His soon-to-be-ex teachers and I had a good cry this morning over our failure to keep him a baby forever. We tried! Lord we tried. He still takes a bottle, he still enjoys a good cuddle, but somehow he managed to grow up when we weren't looking. He walks, he talks, he slices, he dices, he can do it all. So very bittersweet, this growing up thing.

In other news, Spencer tried to murder his teacher. Ok, I may be slightly exaggerating (you're shocked, I know), but she did pull me aside yesterday at pick-up and mention her concern that he had wrapped his hands around her throat during playtime. Hmmm. I have two possible suspects as to where he's seen this behavior (I always wait to strangle his father until after the boys are asleep) - television, and/or his cousins. His cousins have heretofore offered up such gems as "dork," "idiot," and how to knock a little brother over quicker than a parent can blink. And television, well...whether it's a question of life imitating art or the reverse, it seems there is entirely too much garbage on Ye Olde Boob Tube for this momma's liking. Oh. My. God. I have become my mother. I never in a million years thought I would protest my beloved TV. But even the supposedly "safe" children's shows promote questionable content, as evidenced by dear Spence during a recent innocent cardboard box/clubhouse adventure, shouting, "You'll be trapped in there...for-evaaahhh! A-hahahahaha!"

And you wonder why I'm in no rush for my youngest to grow up.

So we'll more closely monitor Spencer's interactions. Keep your fingers crossed for both my children to remain the sweetly innocent children you've come to know and laugh at with me. I'll consider my parenting endeavor a rousing success if I can keep them out of the penal system just a little while longer.