22 Months Old Toddler – The End of Peace!
First it was meals.
Mr 20 months didn’t fancy his high chair.
Pushing food away and tipping over glasses if his cries to be released weren’t respected.
There’s just no point taking out yoghurt in the morning.
Breakfast, one of the last things we do before going out the door turned into the starting point of a change of clothes, a hair wash, a mop of the kitchen.
At first the chair switch meant a jack-in-the-box meal.
Two minutes between each jump and dash.
Bring him back.
SAVE THE SOFFA from greasy mitts.
Now, every tenth and eleventh word is ”SIT DOWN!”.
As he rocks to his own rhythms at dazzling hight.
Only ever a step away from the top of the table.
At least the gate across the stairs works.
I just thought that yesterday.
Blissfully unaware that there was yet another revelation to dawn.
Just as I put him into the cot.
Maybe a moment too soon.
He would have stayed on his pillow.
Not buying for a minute that he should need to stay put.
Up went the leg.
Up and over.
Foot; edge; hooked.
Ready to heave himself out.
I took him.
Just don’t figure it out tonight little Man.
Stay in your bed.
Tomorrow I’ll find the extra little edge in the attic.
And that will be it.
Up and down.
In and out.
As often as he pleases!
We’ll remove all the chairs from up there!
Gate on the stairs
…Just PLEASE hold out!