Runaway Hurricane

Hebs is (one of) my strong-willed child(ren).  He is so loving, so enthusiastic, and so happy, as well as so stubborn, so determined, and so willful.  It's a great combination, because although I frequently become exasperated by his behavior, he wins me over with his kisses, loves, and awesome help.  (Seriously.  It's amazing what his little three-year-old hands can clean.  He, honestly, is a big helper.)

Last night after dinner the kids and I played outside before bed.  (Bradley has a head cold, so he was resting downstairs.)  Zee and Em were riding their bikes around the block while the littles and I hung out in the yard.  At one point, Hebs asked if he could go with Zee; I told him no.  When I next looked up, a minute later, Hebs was gone.

I hurried around the corner, Yum Yum following as fast as her chubby legs would carry her.  Several houses away, Hebs was blithely accompanying Zee.  I shouted for him to come back.

Zee stopped, told Hebs to go back to Momma, and then sped away on his race with Em.  Hovering indecisively, Hebs looked from me, to Zee, to me...and started after Zee.  He wasn't running--yet--but he was moving pretty fast.

We played a little game of chase for a few minutes, with me sternly counting and Hebs nervously laughing and defiantly staying ahead of me.  Finally, I called to a neighbor who had just arrived home.  "Ben!"  I shouted.  "Will you grab Hebs for me?"

As the six-foot-plus tall Ben headed for Hebs, the little munchkin decided that he'd stop playing games and ran back to me.  I picked him up, thanked Ben, took Yum Yum's hand, and headed back.  Hebs got a little lecture on the way home, and was unceremoniously put to bed 45 minutes early.  (It had been one of those days.)

Sigh.  He's adorable, and he's mischievous.  I just have to figure out how to channel all that energy into good instead of preschooler-style naughtiness.