The boy is out of control. Picture a very angry monkey at a testing lab gripped on to the cage bars while jumping up and down, bouncing all over the place trying to break out. That's Julian. It's not that he's mad though, he's just crazed. A mad man. A rabid raccoon. A wild banshee. A hyped up caged monkey. I am no match for him.
You know what I do all day now? I stare at him. I am no longer that interesting to him and understandably so because there are walls to climb, cliffs to jump off of, danger to seek! So I stare and wait for my turn to save him from death. I finally think he's wearing himself out so I get ready to take him up to his nap and on the way there I'm holding a sleepy boy who is yawning and rubbing his eyes. I get to the stairs and he leaps out of my arms. He doesn't wiggle or try to slide down, he manages to break free from my grasp and lunges for the stairs. After 45 minutes we finally reach the top because of the many intermissions of unsafe playtime he likes to do while teetering on the steepest steps in the world. We get to the bed where he lays down for a second to catch his breath and he then springs onto his feet, hands on the bed rail as he jumps up and down rocking the bed rail back and forth. I grip his ankles like anchors trying to prevent another one of those episodes.
He then climbs over the bed rail on to the night stand where he can fondle the alarm clock. Every time he hits the magical button that gets the CD turning and music blasting out of the speakers scaring the drool out of him. He then giggles it off. Alarm clocks, that's a funny concept. We had to have one of those pricey models that play CDs. I couldn't possibly be woken to a repetitive buzz or dreaded morning radio. I needed to be woken by the likes of Depeche Mode from our wedding album or Bad Religion. I could also set it to the Nature sounds but being woken by nature sounds? That's just silly. I wish someone told me alarm clocks have no purpose in your life post-baby. Instead of a repetitive buzz we get babbling in our ear. Instead of bad morning radio we get climbed on. Instead of a CD playing we get our hair pulled. Instead of soothing sounds of nature on a loop, we get a smack upside the head from the monitor that Julian climbed onto the night stand to get. And that's only the beginning of the adventures ahead.
I just go on auto-pilot now protecting myself from all of the heart attacks I'm sure to endure. I keep the "be careful!" inside my head as to not make him insecure and doubt his thrill seeking abilities because that will surely make him fall. I just have to watch my little Evil Knieval. So I sit and wait....and take pictures of the adrenaline pumping in action.
*Despite the appearance of his diaper hanging between his knees, it is clean. Just a poor fitting Huggies. And I did promptly place Julian on the ground, I would not allow him to stand up in his stroller unassisted unless taking a photograph. It's all about priorities.
You know what I do all day now? I stare at him. I am no longer that interesting to him and understandably so because there are walls to climb, cliffs to jump off of, danger to seek! So I stare and wait for my turn to save him from death. I finally think he's wearing himself out so I get ready to take him up to his nap and on the way there I'm holding a sleepy boy who is yawning and rubbing his eyes. I get to the stairs and he leaps out of my arms. He doesn't wiggle or try to slide down, he manages to break free from my grasp and lunges for the stairs. After 45 minutes we finally reach the top because of the many intermissions of unsafe playtime he likes to do while teetering on the steepest steps in the world. We get to the bed where he lays down for a second to catch his breath and he then springs onto his feet, hands on the bed rail as he jumps up and down rocking the bed rail back and forth. I grip his ankles like anchors trying to prevent another one of those episodes.
He then climbs over the bed rail on to the night stand where he can fondle the alarm clock. Every time he hits the magical button that gets the CD turning and music blasting out of the speakers scaring the drool out of him. He then giggles it off. Alarm clocks, that's a funny concept. We had to have one of those pricey models that play CDs. I couldn't possibly be woken to a repetitive buzz or dreaded morning radio. I needed to be woken by the likes of Depeche Mode from our wedding album or Bad Religion. I could also set it to the Nature sounds but being woken by nature sounds? That's just silly. I wish someone told me alarm clocks have no purpose in your life post-baby. Instead of a repetitive buzz we get babbling in our ear. Instead of bad morning radio we get climbed on. Instead of a CD playing we get our hair pulled. Instead of soothing sounds of nature on a loop, we get a smack upside the head from the monitor that Julian climbed onto the night stand to get. And that's only the beginning of the adventures ahead.
I just go on auto-pilot now protecting myself from all of the heart attacks I'm sure to endure. I keep the "be careful!" inside my head as to not make him insecure and doubt his thrill seeking abilities because that will surely make him fall. I just have to watch my little Evil Knieval. So I sit and wait....and take pictures of the adrenaline pumping in action.
*Despite the appearance of his diaper hanging between his knees, it is clean. Just a poor fitting Huggies. And I did promptly place Julian on the ground, I would not allow him to stand up in his stroller unassisted unless taking a photograph. It's all about priorities.
posted by Julian at 9:29 AM
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