Tornados

Jack has been referred to before as my tornado. [Now I am a California girl and my only experience with tornadoes is cringing while I watch Bill Paxton in the movie TWISTER (this blog does not endorse TWISTER or any of it's actors).] (My idea of) A tornado is pure destruction. No rhyme or reason to the tornado's path, but to destroy every thing that it comes across. So, that's Jack. He is so aimless in his wanderings around the house at times.

This afternoon, when we got home from another pathetic trip to Winco (this blog does endorse Winco- great prices, healthy stress, good stories for the grandparents), Emma was sleeping sick on the couch. Will was slumbering peacefully in his car seat. Jack was on the loose:

Move the rug, fold the rug, slide the rug. Torment sick Sissy on the couch. Rip Emma's blanket off, and grab some hair in the process. Run from Mommy. Wake Will from blissful slumber... And so on was the evening.

I absolutely love watching the "boy" come out in him, even though, I have to admit that sometimes I cringe at the messes made all over the house.

The most precious moments I have with him are at the end of the day. Jack actually stops twisting & running. He sits on my lap, and listens to his books. He places his head on my shoulder and snuggles up to me as I sing to him. My tornado has calmed for the night. At least until the sun arises...