Is That a Granola Bar Stuck to His Butt?

You've probably noticed that I've been incredibly lazy about this blog lately, but I really can't force a blog. I need to feel inspired to blog before I can blog.

I've spent some time wondering what my first blog of the new year would end up discussing. Would my first blog of 2010 be a Christmas wrap-up describing all the madness, mayhem, wrapping paper, and sheer joy involved in having three small kids discovering what Santa left behind on Christmas morning? Would it detail the New Year's Eve party we held at our house and the resulting Dance Dance Revolution marathon? Should I do a top 10 countdown for 2009? No. We didn't move, no siblings graduated or got married, we didn't have another baby, and no one new completed potty-training; 2009 paled in comparison to 2008. Maybe I would write about all the resolutions I felt I wanted to make for 2010 before I realized my New Year's Resolution for 2010 would be the same one I make every year--to try to just relax and be happy since I already have everything I need in this life but could stand to slow down and just appreciate it all once in awhile. What to blog? What to blog?

Shaun and I were rushing around this morning, attempting to feed all the kids breakfast and get them dressed for the day. Brandon has become fairly particular about breakfast. By particular I mean that he prefers donuts to all other foods, and complains that we force him to eat other foods. He grabbed a chewy granola bar out of the cupboard this morning, and I was satisfied that at least he was choosing something other than a donut, so I went along with this choice. Brandon sat at his booster seat at the table for awhile, breaking the granola bar into pieces, nibbling on a few crumbs, guzzling his milk from his sippy cup, and then he declared that he was, "All done!!"

About half of the granola bar had disappeared, and before cleaning Brandon and turning him loose Shaun checked to make sure that Brandon hadn't just shoved the other half of the granola bar under his booster seat. Because he will just shove food under his booster seat. Your kids probably do it, too. If they're not just blatantly throwing it on the floor they're covertly shoving it under their booster seat or into some crevice of their high chair. But for once Brandon hadn't shoved his granola bar under his booster, so he received some enthusiastic praise for eating his breakfast, and he was cleaned up and set free.

Brandon ran through the house, grinning.

I walked through the living room, picking up toys, sending Kyle upstairs to brush his teeth, telling Natalie to go use the potty, and then I turned and looked at Brandon and said, "Is that a granola bar stuck to his butt?!"

He didn't eat any of that stupid granola bar. He didn't shove it under his booster seat. He shoved it down in the seat next to him, and it got stuck to the rear-end of his dinosaur footie-jammies. And it was pretty darn funny to see him running through the house, grinning, with a granola bar stuck to his butt. It was so funny that I almost didn't care that the little monster managed to get out of eating something other than a donut for breakfast.

This is my life. This is what I shall blog about. This one little question sums up my entire existence right now: "Is that a granola bar stuck to his butt?"