Okay. Yeah. I feel like a moron. I mean, I’m not a novice here. I’ve totally done this shit before, right.
Zach is no longer an infant. Not sure if he officially counts as a toddler yet or not, since he refuses to exercise his thunder thighs. Put him outside and he will do this weird walk/crawl that resembles a primate. Give him a walking toy or something to hold onto and he is good to go. Other than that, he crawls with lightning speed.
But the rest of toddlerhood? We’re there, man. Boy, are we ever.
I needed to get a prescription filled yesterday. I took the kids with me. We were in the pharmacy at the hospital, where we sat in the provided chairs, waiting for the script to be ready. I sat in one. Zach sat in the one next to me, and Evan sat on the opposite side of Zach. Everyone was fine until Zach pulled himself up and reached over and whacked Evan. Yeah. Of course it wasn’t hard enough to hurt Evan, and I told him no. And then he did it again. And I had to hide my giggles.
Zach throws tantrums. And it is
so cute not tolerable. Really, he just rolls around on the floor a bit and kicks his legs, all the while fussing just a tiny bit. And it cracks me up.
Do we really have to revisit the day he bit me?
He plays games with us. Yeah. Not Pat-a-Cake. I mean looking us right in the eye and throwing something on the ground to watch us retrieve it for him. And again. And again. And he gets mad when he sees Evan with one of his toys. God have mercy.
He is into every-friggin’-thing. Electrical outlets, doors, you name it. He is finally tall enough to not only reach doorknobs, but to realize that they are his ticket to whatever is behind said door. And so all of this prompted us to create a totally safe place for him to play that is blocked off by a metal-barred baby gate with a door. And he hates it. So he goes to the door, grabs the bars and jerks back and forth like our house is Alcatraz and he is trying to beat the odds.
So the moral of the story is that, although I have reservations of making one’s house into a bubble of safety instead of teaching children what to do and not to do, John and I made an emergency trip. Outlet covers. Doorknob covers. Cabinet and drawer latches. Door Stoppers.
We are learning to do this all over again. Nine years after we did it the last time. We will. We will!
Now if someone could reveal the secret to get the kid to drink from a fuckin’ cup, I will be forever grateful.
PS: He finally has more than 2 teeth. The two front uppers are breaking in. And if the stories are correct, he is going to take off running any day now according to the disruption in his sleep schedule.