She's hit a whole new milestone these past couple of weeks. Remember our perfect little angel? Here is a sample of some of the things she has been up to:
~ Climbed on top of the piano
~ " " " " the kitchen table
~ " " " " the arm chair, fell off...cried
~ Sticks her hand in toilet water
~ Hits A.
~ Hits me!!
~ Shakes her head no and squeals everytime I put her food on her tray
~ Shakes her head no to everything...EVERYTHING, even the things she wants
~ Runs out of the park so Mommy has to go get her.
~ And more!
Then there's the fireplace... This one really drives me nuts. The two of them open the door to it all the time. From across the room (because I'm always across the room when this happens) I tell them to close the door. Of course they don't so I go close the door and then redirect them to another activity. That's about as far as I've gone, discipline-wise, with the fireplace. I'm just too lazy -- and busy, to figure out a way to actually get them to stay out of there. Like oh, I don't know, perhaps I could set up some cool activities so they wouldn't be bored and have a need to dig in the fireplace. Finger painting would beat fireplace door opening any day. But, I prefer to sound like a broken, nagging record everytime they open it -- which is a lot, so they keep doing it,
The housecleaner had a brilliant idea and moved the couch in front of it -- we never use the fireplace anyway and the couch actually looked good there. Unfortunately, she moved the couch again (she likes to move my furniture, apparently I live in a dollhouse) and now the fireplace is back in the open. The little boy has since stopped going into the fireplace completely but the other day I turned to find Little One tossing ashes out onto the floor.
Do you know how much I hate mornings? A lot. There's a gazillion things to do...and then my toddler decides to dump handfuls of ashes on the floor. So what do I do? I stomp over there oh yes I do. STOMP STOMP STOMP. Standing at the fireplace, with charcoal hands, she's so excited she's shaking. In my firm, angry Mommy voice I spew, "I'm am so frustrated (blah blah blah) the floor is dirty and now I have to clean it up." I get the broom. and in between curious toddlers stepping in the pile of ashes, and her going for yet another handful, I manage to sweep it all up. She is still soo excited and can't get over how cool it is to make Mommy clean up charcoal, she goes to grab another handful. Firm Mommy: "I'm making breakfast and if you are going to keep putting that on the floor then I'm going to have to put you in your highchair." She's still going for the fireplace. Mean Mommy: "That is not OK, I'm putting you in your highchair so I can go make breakfast."
Now, this is the kicker... I scoop her up and stomp over to the highchair STOMP STOMP STOMP. I plunk her down, strap her in and... Silence. Not a peep from her. No tantrum, no screaming. I stand back and take a look at her; she's just sitting as calm as calm can be in her highchair. Now, I wasn't trying to punish her or scold her as I am a firm believer in natural consequences but I confess, I was hoping for a show. What a let down. She likes the highchair. How can I play mean mommy if my child likes the highchair? I was all fired up hoping to be like, "no, you chose to dump ashes all over the floor and now you have to sit in the highchair -- another Mommy would be giving you a spanking right now. Hmph." She totally stole my thunder. I walked away with my tail between my legs and continued with breakfast. A. was playing on the floor and Little One was sitting contentedly in the highchair enjoying the scenery outside the window. It was too peaceful.