The littles run amuck

October 7, 2009

It’s 11:17 pm. And I’m awake. This is completely unacceptable. So what am I doing? Well, not falling asleep for one. For two, I’m strategizing. Apparently the game is on between me and the littles. Currently they’re kickin’ my booty.

Speaking of booty, I’ll get to that in a moment.

First, there’s Josiah. Oh Josiah. I’ve called him my firecracker child from the beginning and so far he’s proving me right. He figured out long ago how to open the CHILDPROOF door locks, which, as is plain to see, renders said door locks completely NOT CHILDPROOF. For a long time his conquering of the CHILDPROOFness of the door locks was rather minor, since it only got him into places like our bedroom — not much damage to be done there other than jumping on the bed, tearing the fake moss out of the fake plant’s planter and scattering nicely folded clothes across the room (well, when there are nicely folded clothes…which admittedly, isn’t all that often. But whatever.)

Well, now he’s upped the ante and has taken to sneaking out the front door quietly and without warning…to take out the trash (which makes him feel very big indeed). Taking out the trash has become his chore and hey, who am I to argue with a child who actually cries when daddy beats him to it. Of course, given his love for taking out the trash and the trash truck and really, all things trash, he’s under the assumption that the trash should really be taken out, oh, in his world? Ideally? Probably a few times a day. But he generally settles for once, maybe twice. Usually he asks if he can go take the trash out (and usually I say no) but every so often he’ll quietly remove the trash bag from the bin and stealthily drag it outside.

Which leads me to the other small human living in this house. Aaron has mastered the art of removing his diaper himself. Now this I wouldn’t be opposed to if he would also master the art of going potty on the potty by himself too. But no, it does not work that way dearest mother.

But frankly, him going potty where he shouldn’t is really the least of my worries. Because today? He got caught by his big sister. Outside. In the front yard. Sans diaper.

He must have followed his firecracker big brother.

And I think it’s totally appropriate to ask the question: What in tarnation do the neighbors think?

Related posts:

1. Overheard at our house
2. My TV Habits
3. My absolute favorite dinner out
4. I hate stuff.

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