This morning you insisted on sitting on my lap while I used the loo, making it the fourth time this week. You beg and plead by grabbing my knees, so giving in is always easier, your clever like that! Lately our mornings together are so familiar that they all blur into one. It starts with your incredible excitement over you ‘NANNNA’ (banana). Excitment quickly turning to panic with a hint of aggression as you await the unpeeled piece of that beloved yellow fruit. With your banana demolished at a record speed the yelling for porridge commences. You are working on your patience levels, I am working on my deep breaths. We are making progress you and I!
My favourite sport, tea drinking is now broken up into 400 explanations/interruptions regarding the reasons I will not let you drink the scalding liquid. Our compromise, you get a cup (empty) so we can both ‘drink tea’ together, while making ‘ooohhhh, awwwww’ sounds. The cup generally gets broken because you love to hold things above your head and let go, but hey it just means we get to practice our ‘ooohhh awwww’ noises while I scoop up the broken pieces.
You like to be my shadow when I’m doing the chores, and lately you are undoing everything I do. Unfolding everything I fold, pulling down books as soon as I shelve them, grabbing underwear off the clothes horse quicker than I can hang them. The other day while sorting (throwing) my socks, you put a pair of my knickers on your head (I’ve kept photos to embarrass you with later). Just when Ive gathered a pile of dirt with the sweeping brush, you crawl right in it and I have to start again. Although today I caught you in the kitchen with the dustpan and brush, you were banging the it off the floor (I assume sweeping) and not eating it, proud mummy moment right there.
You have figured out how to ‘un’ childproof the makeshift childproof bathroom door, that’s how determined you are to get your hands on/in that fecking toilet. Your fascination with it, ill never understand. I meet you half way and let you sit on the throne (seat down!) while you brush your teeth. It’s all about compromise you see.
You much rather playing with my make up bag than with your toys, and I’ve accepted that my brushes will most likely always contain snot and dribble. You enjoy exploring the contents of the recycling bin, but generally this buys me two minutes while I sort dinner so I’m okay with this now. You delight in emptying the pots and pans from the cupboard, Daddy’s even taught you how to make drums with them. We have the tiniest kitchen so I’ve trained my ears to block out the music you make as you bang away happily at my feet. You throw food on the floor only to later eat it again… from the floor. You attempt to crawl away from me commando style before I can snatch it from your hands.
So it may be years before the house is ever really tidy again, and a long time before I can pee in peace but I’ll tell you a secret, I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is the noisiest, messiest, busiest stage yet, but we’ve never had more fun your dad and I, nor laughed as much. And I know your more a toddler now than a baby, yet I find myself making excuses to carry you more, or attach you to my hip, because my sweet boy your growing so fast and I’m holding on with both hands. xx