"Will drop pants for food."
I never know what I’m going to find when I open the kids’ room in the morning. Maybe the diaper pail will be knocked over with its contents strewn about room. Maybe those pretty fragile things that I thought were on a shelf out of her reach will be shattered on the floor. Maybe Abbie will have decided to reclaim her crib, leaving Ian to fend for himself on the floor, or worse, against Tory in his crib. I imagine prison guards have the same sense of dread every time they come in contact with a prisoner.
A lot can happen in their room after I shut the door at night. Sometimes I hear plenty of thumping around before Abbie drifts to sleep, but I rarely reenter the room. I don’t want her to realize that cavorting is a good way to grab daddy’s attention at night, otherwise we’ll have a child who destroys things as a way to stay up later instead of a child who destroys things as a way to unwind at the end of the day. I’ll reenter their room when someone is in obvious distress, like when Abbie wedges herself behind the glider, or if she swipes a brother’s pacifier. Otherwise I go about my business of restoring our home to functional status while ignoring the various bumps, thumps, and kerplumps.
After a relatively uneventful night, I walked into their room yesterday morning to meet the boys, who were eager for their morning banana. Abbie was still asleep, which is a little odd since she’s usually awake and playing with the only toy left within her reach: The light switch. This flicking on and off of the lights may be why the boys are usually eager for breakfast by the time I walk into their room.
The boys woke up on their own while Abbie slept, which isn’t too far outside the norm. She was sprawled across her bed as usual when she sleeps, with a pajama top covering her top half as usual at night, and nothing on her lower half, which is not usual in any non-bath situations. Sure enough the bedding beneath her was soaked.
I shrugged and grabbed the boys to feed them as usual. The bed wasn’t going to get any wetter, and as long as Abbie stayed there sleeping, she wasn’t going to spread her mirth to other absorbable surfaces.
When Abbie emerged from her room, I hurriedly finished with the boys and herded her back to her room. I wanted to strip her bed before anything else touched it, and clothe her before she dribbled any more. After preparing the changing table, I turned to lift Abbie only to find her squatting on the floor with a puddle growing beneath her. As I dressed her, my visiting mother walked into their room to investigate the commotion, plucked a stuffed animal off the floor, and plopped it on her still-moist bed, thus completing my run of being seconds too late.
I let my mother feed Abbie and prepped a couple loads of laundry. I washed everything touching the bed including sheets, mattress pad, pillow, and stuffed animals, even a couple that warned, “do not immerse in water,” because it’s not like they could emerge from the washing machine in a less usable state.
Everything but the pillow emerged clean and dry in time for her nap. The pillow wedged itself in the dryer drum and needed another go around before emerging as usable. That was okay because Abbie doesn’t generally sleep on the pillow, preferring instead to use it and her stuffed animals to create a bed-based obstacle course to contort her body around while sleeping. I gave it back to her that night, although I should take it away completely since she could probably find a way to get into trouble with it after I shut her door at night.
A lot can happen in their room after I shut the door at night. Sometimes I hear plenty of thumping around before Abbie drifts to sleep, but I rarely reenter the room. I don’t want her to realize that cavorting is a good way to grab daddy’s attention at night, otherwise we’ll have a child who destroys things as a way to stay up later instead of a child who destroys things as a way to unwind at the end of the day. I’ll reenter their room when someone is in obvious distress, like when Abbie wedges herself behind the glider, or if she swipes a brother’s pacifier. Otherwise I go about my business of restoring our home to functional status while ignoring the various bumps, thumps, and kerplumps.
After a relatively uneventful night, I walked into their room yesterday morning to meet the boys, who were eager for their morning banana. Abbie was still asleep, which is a little odd since she’s usually awake and playing with the only toy left within her reach: The light switch. This flicking on and off of the lights may be why the boys are usually eager for breakfast by the time I walk into their room.
The boys woke up on their own while Abbie slept, which isn’t too far outside the norm. She was sprawled across her bed as usual when she sleeps, with a pajama top covering her top half as usual at night, and nothing on her lower half, which is not usual in any non-bath situations. Sure enough the bedding beneath her was soaked.
I shrugged and grabbed the boys to feed them as usual. The bed wasn’t going to get any wetter, and as long as Abbie stayed there sleeping, she wasn’t going to spread her mirth to other absorbable surfaces.
When Abbie emerged from her room, I hurriedly finished with the boys and herded her back to her room. I wanted to strip her bed before anything else touched it, and clothe her before she dribbled any more. After preparing the changing table, I turned to lift Abbie only to find her squatting on the floor with a puddle growing beneath her. As I dressed her, my visiting mother walked into their room to investigate the commotion, plucked a stuffed animal off the floor, and plopped it on her still-moist bed, thus completing my run of being seconds too late.
I let my mother feed Abbie and prepped a couple loads of laundry. I washed everything touching the bed including sheets, mattress pad, pillow, and stuffed animals, even a couple that warned, “do not immerse in water,” because it’s not like they could emerge from the washing machine in a less usable state.
Everything but the pillow emerged clean and dry in time for her nap. The pillow wedged itself in the dryer drum and needed another go around before emerging as usable. That was okay because Abbie doesn’t generally sleep on the pillow, preferring instead to use it and her stuffed animals to create a bed-based obstacle course to contort her body around while sleeping. I gave it back to her that night, although I should take it away completely since she could probably find a way to get into trouble with it after I shut her door at night.
posted by Matt at
11:06 PM
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