Protest Is Futile

Perhaps the only reason I have children is so that I can get through this time in my life. It's 10:37 am and I haven't cried once despite having twice reached for my phone to call mom. I also processed the thought "Is Mom at the nursing home or at Matt's?" before I remembered.

I would like to have devolved into blubbering, sloppy snotty tears, but you see life was busy with me. Charlie was chewing something. Charlie had not been fed for two hours. Food? What is it you're eating Charlie?

Charlie has become candy obsessed. I've been up since a bit before 8 am and every moment I was "occupied" ie - changing a diaper, in the bathroom, stepping outside to dump coffee grounds on my roses, my Charlie had raced into the kitchen, gotten into the cabinet and then the candy bowl and eaten as much mini candy bar as he possibly could.

My guess is that he's up to 10 today.

Yesterday he not only raided the candy bars, he also seems to have consumed about 4 praline pecans that are so sweet they make my blood sugar soar and I get the shakes. Charlie is an eating machine. I fed him a nice big breakfast and he ate nearly all of it. Plus a chocolate milk.

The quest for sweets is insatiable, however. I'll see him, sitting innocently with puffed out cheeks full of chocolate, and chocolate around his mouth and say "Charlie, are you eating candy?" And omg - he LIES. "NO." I ask again, "Charlie - are you eating candy?" And he admits it. "Yeah." I suppose I should celebrate learning to lie maybe? I'm not sure. That's some kind of development right?

Thus, my desire to devolve into a blubbering mess is thwarted by an actual need to keep my child out of a diabetic coma.

I've hidden the candy. I've warned the oldest child to be on the lookout for random noises from the kitchen, it means we've got a mouse named Charlie. I can't even think about this too hard. We're going to have to get cabinet locks for real - what if it was poison he was running off to eat?

Good grief.

I don't even know. But I know we're going to have to do something.

Well, it's keeping me too busy to cry. That's a plus.
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