Why do I feel like "no" is the most commonly used word in my vocabulary? I've said that little word so many times lately, I feel like my mouth will soon be stuck in a permanent "o" and my eyebrows will be furrowed forever.
My usual regime of positive behavior support is crumbling as I toil to keep Luke alive through his 15th month. Let me give you few glimpses into our recent narrowly-missed disasters. The other day I walked into the kitchen to see Luke holding the oven open with his hand inside the door while the oven was on. No, he miraculously did not get burned. I bought an oven lock that evening.
The next day Luke was running through the house carrying a porcelain dish that I swear was out of his reach. Thankfully I confiscated it before it could be smashed into pieces. I have no idea when he grew so tall.
Let's see; Luke's also learned that it hurts when you close a drawer on your fingers, that Toby bites when you stick your hand in his mouth, and that you can't run and trip head-first into a filing cabinet without consequences:
Sam wanted me to get a picture right away of Luke's first bloody nose, but I insisted on cleaning him up first. Well anyway, you should have seen the other guy.
Even though most of the house is on toddler lock-down, there are a few cupboards that I've left unlocked for Luke to browse through. Usually this means that our pots, pans, pitchers, and cans of tomato sauce have all found permanent homes sprawled across our kitchen floor. This week, however, Luke discovered a new use for those cans:
Did it occur to anyone else that a jar of salsa weighs about 5 pounds? This is not a safe activity. Sadly we had to put an end to that activity, too. It looked like so much fun.
I know that all of my perilous situations sound like old hat for all you moms out there, but for me, I'm still getting used to living in a war zone. Some days it feels like its Mom vs. Everything. And I'm not sure who's winning!