The Toddler Mantra: I Want to Do It Myself!

The Climber wants to do everything himself. The start of this phase coincided almost exactly with this third birthday. Sometimes, this works in my favor. Like when he wants to go potty by himself, feed himself, or play trains by himself. Other times, it's my worst nightmare. Case in point- our last trip to the supermarket.

The Climber and I stopped in to the supermarket for just a handful of things. Thinking we didn't need the burden of a big cart (and of trying to keep The Climber in it), I just grabbed a basket. That's when it started.

"I want to carry the basket! I've got big muscles!" says The Climber. Since it's empty and since we are only getting a few things, I relent and let him carry the basket. But of course as we go around the store I inevitably start remembering a few other things we need, and the basket starts to get heavier. It reaches the point where The Climber is no longer carrying it, but is instead pushing it on the floor with both hands.

As cute as this looks, it's taking much too long and we are in a rush. So when I add the half gallon of milk, I decide that's enough.

"Here honey, let Mommy carry the basket, it's getting too heavy," I say.

"NOOOOOOOOOO! I WANT TO CARRY IT. I HAVE BIG MUSCLES! I'M BIG AND STRONG!!!!!"

There is no way he can carry it. The basket is heavy even for me. I pick it up and try my best to calm him down, because he is now crying and approaching full on tantrum mode. The Climber has never had a public tantrum before (how I've escaped this, I have no idea), but he seems hell bent on having his first one right now.

After getting tired of dragging his crying butt down the aisle, I give in.

"Fine. If you can pick it up, you can carry the basket."

The tears magically cease and a look of sheer joy crosses his face! Beaming, he attempts to pick up the basket. Several times in fact. And then he says:

"Mommy, can you carry it? It's too heavy."

For some reason, "I told you so" didn't bring me any comfort.

What Naptime Means in Our House

Now that The Climber is in his big boy bed, naptime has become a bit of a challenge. When he was in his crib, he would just hold onto the side rail and bounce and bounce and bounce until he fell down and passed out. Since that isn't an option in the regular bed, he find new ways to entertain himself during naptime. Here's a list of things The Climber seems to think constitute "taking a nap":

1) running around in circles in the middle of the floor until he falls over from dizziness

2) jumping on the bed until he flops down, usually whacking his head/face on the end of the bed in the process

3) laying on the floor and banging his head against the wall repeatedly

4) telling himself various imaginative and very involved stories

5) coming up with neverending excuses as to why he can't sleep (my bed is too lumpy, I need some milk, I have jobs to do and need my tools, I need you to snuggle with me, I need a hug, I have to pee, my bed is too comfy, etc. etc. etc.)

6) climbing up the safety bars on his window like its a ladder until he's standing on the window sill

7) unscrewing the decorative knobs on his headboard and footboard because they are his new bouncy balls

8) turning his ceiling fan on and off because he can now reach the switch from the end of his bed

and (my all time favorite)

9) pretending he's stuck on/in something so I have to come up and rescue him


And those are just from today. I think he's beginning to outgrow the whole nap thing (God help me).

Note: I realize some of these things I'm describing are dangerous, and yes I do go in there once he starts doing something that could result in injury.

Seriously, Why Do I Bother?

So the other day, The Climber comes running up to me, begging "Mommy, Mommy, make me a super duper train tracks!" Naturally, being the loving mother (sucker) that I am, I set to work. First task is actually finding all the pieces of train track that are scattered around the entire house. Second is remembering how the damn things go together to form the cool layout in the picture on the box. I can't, so I give up and set about making my own super awesome train town. It takes for freaking ever. Thirty minutes later, VOILA!

The Climber is ecstatic and quickly sets to work running his new train town (complete with engine wash and zoo)! Five minutes after that, it looks like this.

And I hear "Mommy fix it!"

I think it's The Husband's turn to play trains.

Why My Son's Room Looks Like a Mental Institution, or How The Climber Got His Nickname

This is an old story, but considering how often I've updated this blog since I started it, I suppose I have some catching up to do. In order to avoid using real names out here in the big, bad internet, I've dubbed my son (now almost 3) The Climber. Here is why I use that moniker.

The Climber's room used to look really cute. It was sports themed with coordinated curtains, bedding, and wall decorations. Every neurotic, OCD mother's decorating dream, if I do say so myself. Now it looks like the room of a committed lunatic. No decorations, bare dresser, bare bookcase/cabinet, and nothing on the walls. There are also no knobs on both the dresser and bookcase/cabinet. Why you ask? Well I'll tell you.

Husband and I long ago put the drawer locks you use in the kitchen on his dresser drawers and on the cabinet part of his bookcase. I hate putting away laundry more than doing it, so one round of The Climber ripping every piece of clothing out of his drawer and throwing it on the floor necessitated drawer locks. After that we figured the dresser (which was already secured to the wall, for tipping prevention) was pretty much babyproofed. Wrong.

Now, we already knew The Climber was really a monkey in boy's clothing, because he was out of his crib at the ripe old age of 18 months. Hence he is now in a big boy bed, and able to leave it pretty much whenever he wishes. One day, during The Climber's "nap" I happened to look over at the video monitor and saw that he was out of bed. Surprise surprise. So upstairs I go, and when I open his door I find him sitting (proudly) on top of his dresser, which doubles as his changing table.

"How did you get up there?" I ask.

He points down at the drawers, which are still closed, and answers "Steps!" In a 'duh mom, what are you stupid' kind of tone.

"What steps?" I ask, stupidly.

"Those steps," he says again. And points to the knobs on his dresser drawers. You have got to be freaking kidding me.

So off come the knobs, to be replaced with pieces of leather cord secured by a washer. Problem solved right? WRONG. The next day during "nap" I see that he's out of bed again. So again I go up, expecting to see him playing on the floor or whatever.

Nope. He's once again up on top of the dresser. So this time, I get smart (or so I think) and ask him to show me how he got up there. And The Climber, ever the little monkey, is more than happy to oblige. What I had failed to notice when removing the knobs the day before is that each drawer has a decorative trim about 1/8 to 1/4 inch deep around the outside of the drawer. Apparently, this is all The Climber needs to get a toe hold and haul himself up on top of the dresser. And there is nothing I can do about that, short of removing the whole dresser from the room, which is not going to happen. So down come the cute sports pictures and the wall lamp that were over his dresser, along with everything on the adjacent wall that is within his reach when standing on the dresser. The bookcase/cabinet had to be emptied too, since he was also climbing up on that.

And that is why The Climber's room looks like a mental institution.

Mother's Day... They Mean Well

So here I am, a year later, and the whole blog thing never took off. The toddler years are challenging, as many of you may know, and I never got around to posting again. But now that The Climber is almost 3 and a little more in control of himself, I find I have a little more time to myself to do things like write a blog. So here I go, my second ever post, which will hopefully have a third before another year passes!

As the title of this post implies, here is how Mother's Day with a toddler went for me:

6:30 am- The Climber wakes up earlier then usual (of course). I kick my husband and ask him to let me sleep in since, you know, it's Mother's Day. His response: "Hmpaihejkhren." Back to sleep he goes. I however, can't go back to sleep (though I refuse to get up) in case The Climber gets into mischief in his room, as he usually does.

7:00 am- The Climber is now prancing around his room singing loudly (but happily!) at the top of his lungs some song he just made up. I kick my husband again to wake up and bring him downstairs for breakfast. Husband reluctantly gets up, making a big show of how difficult it is. Husband and The Climber go downstairs, and I attempt to go back to sleep.

7:20 am- I start to drift off when I hear loud thumping followed by giggling as The Climber escapes Husband and comes barreling up the stairs. Even louder thumping ensues as Husband races up after him yelling "Let Mommy sleep in, she's tired!" Heart is now pounding, eyes are wide open. Attempt to go back to sleep anyway.

7:45 am- Repeat of 7:20 incident only this time The Climber reaches the bedroom door and is in the process of opening it by the time Husband picks him up to carry him (screaming) back down the stairs. Sleep is beginning to seem less likely.

8:00 am- My phone beeps as a friend(with small children) texts me to wish me a Happy Mother's Day. Thank you, but why the f*uck aren't you trying to sleep in too?

8:30 am- CLANG CLANG SMASH "Uh-oh" CLANG CLANG. Husband and The Climber are making me breakfast in bed.

8:45 am- Crying coming from downstairs, cause unknown. Hysterical laughter follows 5 minutes later. What the hell is going on down there? Sleep eludes me as I contemplate the possibilities.

9:00 am- Husband and The Climber appear with breakfast in bed (awww)! The Climber scampers in saying "Happy Mommy's Day Mommy! I made you breakfast in bed! I'm going to steal all your bacon!" I, of course, melt instantly. Have breakfast in bed with The Climber and Husband. I then admit defeat and go downstairs with my boys to evaluate the extent of the mess in the kitchen.

Later we are downstairs getting ready for both sides of the family to come over for a BBQ. I yawn as I'm picking up The Climber's toys.  Husband says, "Why are you tired? YOU got to sleep in all morning!" Sigh. They mean well.

Here we go...

So here I am. Another SAHM joining the ranks of the so-called "mommy bloggers". Just what the world wide web needs, right? But I'm not here because I think that I have something infinitely important to say that simply must be shared with the universe. I may be a lawyer (technically), but I'm not that conceited. In fact, it's highly unlikely that anyone else will even read this thing! Truth be told, I need to find something to do that requires moderately intelligent thought in order to preserve my own sanity.

And in case anyone else is actually reading this, here is a little bit about me. As I previously mentioned, I'm a lawyer by degree although I did not practice law at the firm I worked for before quitting to stay at home. About halfway through law school I realized that the practice of law was not for me, but after investing so much time and money I thought it would be foolish not to at least finish and take the bar. So I did, and after a brief stint as an Estates and Trusts attorney (the subject I liked best in school) my suspicions that the law was not for me were confirmed. I enjoy learning about it, but not practicing it. So I worked as a research clerk at a local firm for a while and eventually fell into doing the marketing for the firm, a job that I really enjoyed. After my son was born, I continued to work two days a week for about a year and a half before deciding to quit and stay at home full-time. And so my adventure begins!

I'm sure this blog will inevitably focus a lot on the joys and challenges of parenthood, because let's face it, that's pretty much all I've got going on right now. But it is my hope that there will be some sort of intellectual content appearing here as well. I miss having conversations with other adults about topics that don't involve potty training, big boy beds, or the Wiggles. I miss having some time away from home, without the constant soundtrack of "mommy mommy mommy" playing in the background. Hell, I even miss writing legal briefs! Don't get me wrong, I love my son more than life itself, and deciding to stay at home was one of the best decisions I've ever made. But for the sake of my own sanity, I need an outlet.

And so begins this blog. I don't know where this is going or if I'll have anything worthwhile for anyone else to read. I just hope that at the very least my future posts will be a source of entertainment (or commiseration) for somebody!