I wrote a post last week. I was almost done and then I fell asleep. Literally sitting up still holding my smartphone.
I bet you automatically pictured me with my mouth hanging open, drooling like a goober, while the Helpful Toddler stole her baby sister’s toy out of her hands. All I have to say to you is:
Get. Out. Of. My. Head.
Actually, IJ was putting the girls to bed. Nonetheless, I awoke to the sound wailing children (unusually, my children are not big fans of bedtime…pause for a parents everywhere to finish laughing) and found that my phone had died.
And when I reread what I had written (which was THANKFULLY saved automatically) I realized I had been so tired I was practically drunk while writing (okay, maybe losing it would have been more merciful). I was as punch drunk tired as the baby, and possibly even less coherent.
It read like a big list of excuses as to why I haven’t had time to write lately. I have been busy, but a list of excuses is no fun to read.
So. Instead of an excuse, a story. A Helpful Toddler experience. Starring 3.75yo CE, aka the Helpful Toddler.
This story begins with baby steps. No, really. The Hungry Baby is also known as the Teething Banshee (at least, she is in the fevered dreams I have in the 30 seconds of sleep we get between fussy baby time and getting up early
(whh-hh-hh-hyy, God!)). And now, I’ll probably also be referring to her as the Adventuresome Baby, since she just started walking.
I’m actually really excited about this. The baby’s ability to walk increases her ability to entertain and, in return, be entertained by her older sister.
I wanted to help her along so I got out the Helpful Toddler’s old walker. It’s a beautiful little wooden cart that was a gift from the girls’ aunts.
CE has shown no interest in the thing in about a year. But she still considers it
(and everything else in the house) to be hers exclusively. So she waited until I was busy cooking and stole it from her poor, albeit cheerful, little sister.
But she’s a big girl now. She sees her baby toys in a new and more interesting light.
She’s in a mode now where she likes to take things apart. Often this translates to breaking. Usually my things, I’ve noticed. Moving on. She figured out how to remove one of the screws holding the handle by twisting the handle. Clever little *censored*…
So she’s in her room with her sister, having stolen the little cart from her sister, now armed with a blunt-nosed screw. What to do with it?
I’m walking down the hallway, blissfully unaware, when her door slams. This slam is followed by a loud thump. This thump is CE’s tell. When she is doing something she knows is wrong, and she hears me lumbering unaware down the hallway, she slams the door and throws her body against it in a futile attempt to keep me from finding out.
So, on this day, I sigh and consider plausible deniability as a path toward letting IJ take care of it after work. Morbid curiosity wins in the end.
After talking CE from in front of her door, I open it to this:
Yes. She took the paint off her wall. And fed it to her baby sister.
A few days later, I got the last of the paint out to touch up the wall, baby penned and toddler playing quietly in her playroom. When I was done, I scraped off the paintbrush, set it hanging over edge of the bathroom sink, looked up and down the hallway, and then rushed like a mad person to change the fussy Teething Banshee’s diaper and put her down for her nap. I smugly strolled back to the bathroom, feeling like Houdini would have been proud of that squirming diaper change, and…
… the vanity top was solid hot pink. So were the Helpful Toddler’s hands.
I was too heartbroken to take a picture. All the paint scraped off the vanity top easily enough. But nothing I tried could get the pink out of the silicon sealer along the edge.
I think I had a beer as my snack during naptime that day. I’m a little hazy on the details.
Up next: making baby wipes. Until then!