I'm on disability now. (Woo-hoo for fibromyalgia.) And while I do love lounging on the couch in my pajamas, I don't love getting hit in the head mid-catnap by blocks thrown by an 18-month-old.

Just to give you an accurate picture of this kid's throwing/pitching/whatever ability, I have a little story to tell:

This past weekend he was having a blast running around in the backyard, chasing dogs, shouting with little kid wild abandon and generally just having a good 'ol time.  After a bit, he becomes silent and his noise is replaced with the sound of something hitting the Sun-room's walls.

Outside I go to investigate and there be my little boy pitching those wretched red lava rocks (we inherited these ugly rocks at this house, they are everywhere and they must go) at the Sun-room walls. I admonish him with a firm, "No-no!" as if that's ever worked before and go back inside.

Surprisingly he does stop throwing rocks at the Sun-room and all is peaceful for about five minutes. Then the doorbell rings. Oh great. Like we need company right now. The kitchen's a disaster and I dare not enter the dining area until Haz-Mat gives the "all-clear."

Phil answers the door because I avoid all sudden social contact. It's awkward and Itry to avoid any potentially awkward encounter.

It's our next-door neighbor who, as it turns out, is having a party in his backyard with real-live guests who don't enjoy getting pelted by rocks.  So let's do a quick summary: Our almost 3-feet-tall toddler was pitching rocks over a 6-feet-tall fence. And not only was he clearing the fence, he had so much momentum that the rock continued into their backyard and stopped only when it hit someone.

So....imagine how that feels at close range. And with a block. Disability and staying home with five kids do not mix well.  However, I do have to appreciate the kid's desire to rid the backyard of those rocks.