Who said boys were easier than girls?

I can distinctly remember hearing this throughout my second pregnancy. Now maybe as an infant Fionn was a bit easier than his sister...a bit quieter, not so many ear infections, pretty agreeable. But I've got to say as he's getting older...he's proving that this may not always be the case!


Example 1: We really need to work on his listening skills. Check him out...I was tyring to get a video of him saying "all gone" and desperately trying to get his attention to no avail! Alan seems to think that he gets this from me...can you imagine the nerve of my husband insinuating that I don't listen?



Example 2: While visiting Gramma & Papa yesterday, Kit, Fionn, myself and Gramma enjoyed a beautiful autumn afternoon in their backyard.


Sidebar: for those of you who have been to my parents house you know the set up, big backyard in an established neighborhood (since 1950). The neighborhood is situated very closely to a local forest preserve, which means from time to time (actually more frequently nowadays) my parents will spy a few deer in their yard...eating their trees, plants, flowers, etc. Sounds nice...but it's really quite annoying. And here's why...


So back to the IrishKids playing in Gramma & Papa's backyard. They're running around, playing with the "b-balls", and taking turns swinging on the tree swing.


After Fionn's turn is over, Kit wants to swing one more time. As I work to put her in the swing (not as easy as it sounds), Fionn crawls over toward the shed. Of course, I'm keeping my eyes on him...because he finds everything and anything (at this point in time...Gramma is on the phone in the house).


As I finish buckling Kit into the swing, I notice that Fionn has what looks like a clump of dirt clutched in his fist. Of course I say "no, no Fionn" but if you've watched the video in Example 1...you have a pretty good idea of how that works for me. So, I give Kit a quick push and run over to Fionn as he's putting the clump up to his lips.


And that's when I discover that the clump is NOT dirt, but deer droppings left by Bambi and friends! My response went something like this, "NOOOOOOOOOO, NOOOOOO, NOOOOOOO....AGHHHHHH, YUCK, YUCK, YUCK....DROP IT FIONN, PLEASE, PLEASE, DROP IT NOW!!!" And the whole time, I'm trying to shake the remaining droppings from his grubby little hand...remember when I said he was CLUTCHING it. Let's just say he's got a good grip. I'm grimacing even now.


I had to carry him by his wrists (by the wrists because he was still trying to eat whatever was left in his hand!!!!) to the house, where Gramma met me with a washcloth. First we scrubbed his mouth...because I'm not 100% sure that he didn't taste any of it, then both his hands, and then I had to clip his nails, to ensure no lasting remnants! YUCK.


That's something his sister NEVER did! Leave it to my son...he's keeping me on my toes.