See that gray area? I always forget about the stage right there, in the middle.
I like to call this the "How are you still alive?!" stage. And it has arrived.
If you're my baby right now, you probably think it's a good idea to:
- Book it for the stairs every time you're on the second story
- Kick the fireplace grate until it falls over on you
- Open the bathroom cabinet and dump Comet cleaner on your face
- Suck on wood pellets from the pellet-burning stove
- Attempt to eat a used band-aid you found in the pew at church
My cuddly infant has morphed into a fully mobile Tasmanian devil that never stops moving, touching, yanking, and grabbing.
He's made all of his sisters cry by pulling their hair.
We make people wearing earrings sign a waiver before they hold him.
At mealtimes, I count myself lucky if he only flicks, spits, or sneezes food on my face and not the rest of me, because the last thing I need is more laundry on my hands.
He has an uncanny talent for whacking the keyboard and sending half-composed emails to the principal of my daughter's school (who, ironically, I'm trying to convince that we have it all somewhat together.)
I could write a novel the size of Les Miserables about the disgusting things he's put in his mouth (or tried to.) It doesn't matter how clean I keep the carpet, he'll find something.
This morning I was shocked to catch him entertaining himself for nearly 10 minutes (!) with a toy. A toy! And it was his own! It didn't have small pieces and it wasn't breakable or dangerous or toxic or anything! I almost didn't know what to do with myself.
Other than that little anomaly, though, it's been non-stop cord-chewing, paper-eating, library book-ripping fun around here.
As I think about the things my son has broken, knocked over, eaten, or destroyed in the last 24 hours, I can't help but wonder about a certain night we went to dinner at another couple's house.
I noticed that there weren't any baby locks on the kitchen cabinets, and I remarked on how hard it must be to keep their one-year-old out of them. They looked at me in a serene way and told me that they just told their baby "no," and he stayed away from the cabinets.
Either they were lying, or... well, they were obviously lying.