So, the Creepy Mom strikes again.  Well, not really me this time, but Finn. 

There is a lovely grandmother from the Little Germ that has adopted us.  She has a grandson who is a bit delayed in speech and some physical abilities (I will call him “Jack”), but he is a very bright child, and all three boys seem to get along really well.  Liam enjoys making the little boy laugh, and Finn likes telling him what to do.  We try to get out of the house at least once a week and do something fun with Henri and her grandson, and she has always been super accommodating and understanding about Finn’s little issues…which are quickly turning into his big issues…mainly, his blood-lust and biting. 

With non-stop rain for the past four days (which will apparently continue into the next week), and everyone feeling completely stir-crazy ( I have seen a cannibalistic look in my children’s eyes this week upon denying them chocolate milk…), our adoptive grandmother and I decided to take the boys to the local Pump-it-Up.  Needless to say, every mother in this city, with children 6 and under (and some who seemed quite a bit older), had the very same idea. 

Long story shorter, the boys made themselves at home in the little Flintstone cars, and laid claim to them.  This meant that anyone attempting entrance into the cars was quickly removed.  Liam solved the problem of auto-theft by just remaining in the car and holding his ground in the exact same place.  Finn, however, decided that he really wanted to jump in the “bayoon houses,” so he ran back and forth between the car and the bounce house, expelling small and large children from the vehicle (and usually onto their heads) upon their trespass.  The boys can maneuver the inflated obstacles much faster than I can, in case anyone was wondering why I wasn’t doing anything to curtail Finn’s aggressive actions. 

At about the third kid Finn evicted from the car, I decided to keep him with me in the bounce house and watch he and the Jack in the same place.  Obstacles were decidedly more difficult for Jack, so he was the one I was most worried about, particularly with the insurgance of kids far too big to be with all of the little ones, and oblivious to stepping on them.  Finn, angered at my keeping him from his car, decided to sneak away when I couldn’t reach him, and pushed another child out and onto his head while he made a quick exit back toward his car. 

I was waiting for the year-old in the car to be toppled out while no parents supervised it, but Finn bypassed the car for the Foosball table instead!  Which was fine until I saw a six-year old girl run right in front of the opposing side of the table just as Finn thrust a rod her way.  Oif.  I think most parents know that sound (the dreaded, “Thuck!”)…sickening to hear…the sound of something smacking a head, really hard.  The rod hit the child smack-dab in the middle of her forehead.  And she dropped.   As none of the parents in the room seemed to be focused on any of the children crawling the walls, I was going to run to the child at the point where I noticed her trajectory and assessed that the rod was about to collide with cranium, but I was intercepted by grandma Henri, who turned me around and shook her head, and whispered, “No, you don’t want to get involved with that.  None of the parents were watching, that was their fault.”   Obviously, she is saving me from myself, as she has seen me fess up to Finn’s past incidents only to make things worse for all of us.

After trying to calm down a bit, Finn then turned on Jack.  I don’t think grandma understood just what I meant about Finn’s vampyric tendencies.  I don’t think she understood that when he does bite, he means serious business.  Jack was playing with a toy that Finn wanted, and although Jack is one of the kindest children I know, and shares everything he has without fuss, Finn lashed out with his patented “clamp and tear” bite.  Well, two of them, since Jack was mostly in shock and didn’t know how to react, or why Finn was doing it.  Grandma Henri understands my issue with Finn now, albeit a bit too personally.

Finn was totally unaffected by the morning’s events, as upon leaving he quickly discovered a stool that he could drag around to get him enough height to mess with the arcade games.  Really, I think his aim was to dismantle them rather than play them.  I just watched him, as I was still in shock.  I am still in shock today, and I think the weak-kneed feeling has been steadily increasing since my tripping of the 18-month old.   

Is it just boys?  What do other parents do?  The fighting in our house has been escalating beyond what I ever imagined two-year olds could accomplish in nastiness, premeditation, and vengeance.  The rain continues to pour, and supplies are dwindling…  At the point of this entry, I am not sure how much longer we can last…  I am hiding in the closet, but I can hear them sniffing around outside, and I am sure that I don’t have very long.  I will try to hold on… If you are reading this, please send h e l…Ahhhhhhhhhh…