Tuesday, May 15, 2012
A Whole New Level
Smiling, sitting up, walking. Those are the milestones we coax and urge, and relish in their achievement. We recall at what age each child is when they do these things, mark it in the baby book. Sweet memories that will give us teary pause on graduations and wedding days.
Some of those skills, though, take on a life of their own and lead to destruction, defiance, and tears. Particularly when there are older siblings involved - older siblings with stuff. And so it is with The Menace and her new - completely self-taught! - skill of climbing.
Tim and I noticed this weekend that Laura really enjoyed being on the ottoman. I humored her and set her up there with me while I was around to protect her. When I was ready to move on, or at least not keep my arms hovering, I set her back down. She protested loudly. Then she got quiet, and started playing with pillows. Or so we thought. Turns out she was piling them up to help her get up on the ottoman by herself. (Tim has likened her to the sharks that grow smarter with each generation, potentially outsmarting the human race. In other words, he thinks we're screwed.)
Yesterday, she opted to climb in the playroom, using the chairs to get up on the table and cause mass destruction to Danny's various LEGO creations. Unfortunately for me, he was home from school with a tummy ache and thus witnessed it. Suffice to say he was brokenhearted. She had already taken to randomly opening drawers she wasn't quite tall enough to peer into, and blindly waving her hands through them to see what she could grab. Now she has the power to boldly go where her infant self had never been able to, and the remorselessness of toddlerhood to wreak havoc at every turn.
Nothing is safe. I don't even know where to tell Danny to put his stuff. I guess his room, which shall forever be under lock and key (or at least closed - she can't turn doorknobs yet, but I have seen her try to figure it out). But then she bats those (icy) baby blues, giggles when Danny wrestles with her, and we forgive her yet again. Wouldn't you?