'Yes, I love technology...

...but not as much as Mom and Dad, but still I love technology...always and forever.' I'm talking about Gordon here. The level of love for his parents is equaled by his love for electronics. The sisters, as I now refer to them, are on a lower tier I believe. This kid is nuts. (Someone tell me if I have an obsessed child or not).

Every day is a battle. To see who will win the technological territory in our tiny apartment.

Skirmish sites: The X-box, which we now must unplug after every use, lest he try to put in his own movie, which he has done before, and worsen the vibrating noise he somehow created.
The computer desk. This kid has EXCELLENT climbing skills. As good as his sisters. There is little I can do to keep him off stuff short of removing all chairs from the apartment. He can pull them out. Push them to where he wants. His greatest morning desire is to climb atop the computer desk, hoping the compy is still on from Ben being up late, and scrolling through whatever happens to be on the computer screen. He knows how to use that scrolling button well. Then he sits and whacks the keyboard, until the computer is chirping for mercy.
The cell phone. This is a big one. I cannot check Voicemail or text with him in view or earshot, because his super-sonic hearing will pick up on most little cell phone noises. We keep our phone on "flight mode" (no broadcasting/receiving ability) most times so he doesn't access the internet and sign up for Yahoo mail. I've caught him three times accepting the user agreement for an email account. He can text too. It's gibberish, but it gets sent.
The dinner table. Ben used to put his laptop here when not in use. Now, if we've won the skirmishes of the previous three places, he heads here hoping he'll find the compy. He opens it, and hits buttons until I take it away. Then he'll head for my sewing machine. Ben now stores the lappy under the TV stand. But yesterday morning the boy figured out it was under there and pulled it out using the power cord. So now it may not be safe there either.
The bathroom. All those wonderful gadgets, electric toothbrushes, shavers, and beard trimmers are a delight to him. We have a not-childproof-friendly bathroom, so he just pulls on the cords until he knocks them down, pulls the accessories off, puts a few in the garbage, and crawls off with a toothbrush head in his mouth. Yum.
The van control panel. When we take a car ride, he's got to have his "fix" of messing with the controls, honking the horn, etc. Otherwise, trying to get him in his car seat is like breaking a board in half. Literally.
The cost of me winning the skirmish: A screaming, thrashing, full-on tantrum. A real privilege to watch.

The only machine he can play with and not break? The vacuum cleaner. He runs for it. My girls ran away from it screaming until about 10 months ago. For him, it's almost endless amounts of entertainment.

Gordon was such a mild, sweet baby. Now I know he was saving up all his tantrums and naughtiness for after his first birthday. I did not know the meaning of a "busy kid" until now. Maybe I'm raising the next Bill Gates. Or Steve Jobs. Or a kid who's going to need techie rehab by the time he's four. It must be in the genes. I have no other explanation for it. He does say "Mommy!" in the cutest way though, and a lot. That mostly makes up for the craziness.

Random Note: When we were reading scriptures tonight, a verse mentioned something about earth and "the face thereof." A few seconds later, we hear Jillian quietly mutter, "The earth doesn't have a face," like we were a couple of nut jobs for saying such a thing. She is another post.