When the babies were little our pediatrician gave us the requisite baby safety lecture. He mentioned that it would be doubly hard to keep the boys safe since they would work together on their hi-jinks, like “the velociraptors from Jurassic Park.” We have a sort of whimsical pediatrician. But anyway, the boys are already WAAAAYYYY beyond any level of mischief that Abi has gotten up to in her entire life.
Callum escaped from the house to the outdoors by three different routes in one week. No more airing out the house in the mornings. Once Ronan followed him; the other two times Ro-Ro was still busy deciding when I caught wind of their shenanigans. I caught wind of them by the sudden lack of clacking and crashing sounds that accompany my boys everywhere. Ronan loves to throw things and has got a pretty serious arm. The other day in the van he threw a toy backwards so hard that it flew over his seat and over the driver’s seat and hit the steering wheel. Callum is in a phase of dragging large toys over to places where he might be able to use them to climb. Both boys love to bang and shake and drop things. It’s a most percussive environment. Both like to travel from door to door in the house testing to see if any will open. Ronan uses the push method; Callum tries to turn doorknobs. They have about a 20% success rate on the interior doors, which don’t latch super well, especially if they were most recently shut by a 3-year-old. At those times it is a race to see if I can a) notice the sudden silence and b) race down the hall and c) secure both babies before anyone gets his hand in the toilet or knocks down Daddy’s guitar.
Abi is under a frequent state of baby invasion. I’m sad that preschool is over since that gave her a good break from them. The boys are spending more time in their baby jail and Abi is spending more time in her room, but in general they find her and all her doings fabulously interesting every second of the day. This morning I got them out of their high chairs after breakfast and they immediately swarmed Abi’s chair, trying to reach high enough to swipe the sandwich from her hands as she was eating it. I guess they thought her food looked better than theirs. She loves blocks and big legos right now and the sound of two legos clicking together is like a homing beacon for the boys, Ronan especially. We must rescue elaborate towers and guns and houses and other creations by running through the house with them held above baby level to a safer room, carefully laying them down and slamming the door before a baby can squeeze in. Baby level just keeps getting higher and higher. For one thing Callum can walk now. Since he is mostly upright it is even more obvious that he is ludicrously tall for his age. For another, he’s got quite the wingspan for a little guy and he’s not afraid to use it. Callum knocks things off counters and tables and Ronan is right behind him with lighting quick reflexes to scoop up any tiny little forbidden objects and jam them in his mouth. Callum is also helping Ronan get better at walking by helping him push furniture around the house.
Abi is getting more time outs lately as she experiments with her own baby-like behavior. She doesn’t quite get why the babies are allowed to throw their cups on the floor but she is not; why they can make giant messes without repercussion but she cannot. Alas, she is discovering that being older doesn’t just mean later bed times and more junk food, but more expectations. As an oldest child myself, I feel her pain. As a parent, I only sometimes manage to keep the exasperation out of my voice when I ask WHY DID SHE FEEL THE NEED TO THROW HANDFULS OF ALREADY SPILLED RICE ACROSS THE FLOOR, etc etc.
Life around here is a lot of happy noise punctuated by sudden bouts of tears or emergency rushes to prevent calamities. Every day much the same, and every day totally different. I’m tired. I wonder if they make those hamster exercise balls for kids?