Ch...Ch...Ch...Changes

It has come to my attention that Pearce is quite possibly the cutest he has ever been. It has also come to my attention that this cuteness is accompanied by a generous dose of mischief. That dose of mischief comes with a side of "I can do it myself" and that comes with an over sized helping of mommy insanity.

 Let me just tell you, life at the Brann household has been real interesting.

Sorry about my lack of posts these past few months. Frankly, I like to post about things that amuse me or I find humorous in life. And lately? Well ... not much amuses me.

Anyhow, Pearce "The Wild Man" Brann has been quite the handful lately and I am convinced I need to post these stories for the rest of the world to read so that Jimmy and I will have a strong case when one of us ends up in the looney bin. Ya know...I need our side to be heard.

First of all, I am a bit concerned that Pearce is actually smarter than us. I am not joking here. Maybe he doesn't know arithmetic and mathematics yet, but he certainly has the ability to try and out-smart us. The other night at dinner I got onto him for standing up in his chair... it went something like this:

Me: Pearce we do not stand up in our chair at the dinner table.

Pearce: Hey, don't say that to me...

Jimmy: Pearce, we DO NOT talk to mommy like that.

Pearce: (head sweetly tilted) I wasn't talking to mommy. I was talking to youuuu.

Jimmy: Well, you don't talk to daddy like that either.

Pearce: (deep sigh)  But daddy, I was talking to my baby brother.

Jimmy: Pearce, we don't talk to anyone like that. We use kind words.

Pearce: Okayyyyyy...

Uh -huh. Or another favorite of mine, Pearce's confession after a day at Miss Sheron's:

Jimmy: Did you have a good day today at Miss Sheron's?

Pearce: Yeah daddy, I didn't hit.

Jimmy: Well I am glad to hear that. No hitting is a minimum requirement at school.

Pearce: Uh huh.(in a proud voice) I pushed Jackson.

Jimmy: You pushed someone? Why did you push Jackson?

Pearce: Because Jesus tells us not to hit.

Jimmy: Pearce, Jesus doesn't tell us not to hit. He tells us to be kind to others and that means no hitting or pushing or using unkind words.

Pearce: So we don't push?

Jimmy: No, we don't.

Pearce: (deep sigh) Okayyyyyyyy.

Also, Pearce has a pretty generous vocabulary right now. He uses words like actually and possibly on a daily basis and has no shame interjecting them into his negotiations. Like last week I was getting him some yogurt and when I asked him if he wanted strawberry or mixed berry, he replied, "Actually, I would like some applesauce."

And yesterday he picked up my keys when I dropped them so I said 'thank you'. His reply? "Good manners, mama."  Glad I have his approval.

He is also perceptive and has a tendency to piece things together better than we would like. We moved him into a 'big boy bed' about three months ago and during bathtime the next night, he started asking questions about his crib.

Pearce: Why do I have a big boy bed?

Me: Well. you are growing so big and strong that your crib was getting too small for you.

Pearce: But where's my crib?

Me: Well, we are going to put it together for the baby.

Pearce: For baby brother to sleep in? We can put it in your tummy. It would fit, mama.

Thanks, kiddo. Thanks alot.

I can only imagine what the little sweetheart must be dealing with internally. There have been lots of changes here at the Brann household.

In the past few months we have moved Pearce to a big boy bed and survived a visit from the "Paci Fairy".  I do love how proud he is in this picture. We colored a picture for the Paci Fairy and taped the baggie of pacis to our front porch for her to pick up. In their place she left two dump trucks and some new Biblical action figures. And for the record, Goliath and Joshua's limbs keep falling off. Literally. They just fall off. I owe Mardel a phone call on this one.

 As if that wasn't enough,  I quit my job to be home full time and started driving a minivan. I call it the silver bullet. It's pretty awesome.

 Also, we celebrated potty training only to learn that a refusal to go on the potty was soon to follow. We've been having loads of fun here. Really.

These changes have clearly gotten to the sweet boy as Jimmy and I have found ourselves in the thick of the longest, loudest, most erratic tantrums we have ever seen from Pearce. His need to be in control is almost amusing but after we survive each episode, Jimmy and I are anything but amused.

For example, a few days ago it was naptime and Pearce didn't want to put on a Pull Up before his nap. Now, I am all for challenging our children to stretch themselves, however I am also 36 weeks pregnant and I simply don't have the energy to change bed sheets more than I have to. A Pull Up at naptime is necessary. Trust me.

Anyhow, the battle turned into a screaming, thrashing, 'do it my way' tantrum that lasted about half an hour. All the advice and reading I have done recommends simply ignoring the behavior and acting somewhat disinterested. So this is what I did:

I turned off all the lights downstairs and shut the bedroom doors. I informed Pearce that it was naptime and that I would be upstairs in his room reading a story. If he missed it, too bad. I also made sure he knew he would be downstairs all alone if he didn't come up and obey.

Now, about this time I was feeling pretty proud of myself for doing what all the experts advise ... a tantrum? I could handle this.

That is, until I heard a knock at the front door. When I came downstairs to get the front door, I saw two things:

1. Our new neighbor at the front door...looking a bit concerned. Let me interject here that we don't know them at all. It's worth mentioning that they also have a great pool no one uses. I was hoping to make friends with them really quickly.

and

2. Pearce's bare hiney... with no pants or Pull Up on, running back and forth between the front door screaming, "No mama! I don't want to!".

I was so proud.

Pearce finally gave in to his need for rest and this is how I found him when I went to get him from downstairs...

I mean, what's a mom to do?