Girl, I am going to strap a ball and chain to your ankles! Seriously!
How could I have forgotten this stage? It's not like it's been THAT long since your older siblings grew out of it... well, sort of grew out of it.
But I think it's safe to say that you are, by far, the worst yet!
After the sixth bowl of cereal and milk you've dumped over, the seventh glass of water you spilled, the fourth box of cereal you poured out, the box of goldfish you emptied, the bag of animal crackers you threw everywhere, (deep intake of breath) the couch you dismember at least six times a day, the bathtub you dive into, fully clothed, into the water, the windowsill you climb up into, the book case you attempt to pull yourself up on, the yogurt you grab and wipe all over the counter..... stop, just stop!!
I KNOW that I shouldn't be surprised, after all, you were doing a full flight of stairs, both up AND down well before you turned the ripe old age of one year.
But still, stop climbing!!! What are you, part monkey? Orangutan?
You should NOT be able to climb up the bar stools to the counter at 15 months. But you do. Six hundred times a day! Hence all the spilled water, yogurt, and bowls of cereal.
I leave for less than one minute and I find you here, atop our ever stylish plastic folding kitchen table.
Would it make ANY difference if I told you that is NOT where I hide the treats?
And if you don't like being stranded in the window sill, stop climbing up into it!!
*sigh* Gone are the days of ease and tranquility when I could close my bedroom door and hide away from the screaming for a minute... or twenty.
Why, just this morning, I walk into the kitchen and what do I find? You, pretending to be all Innocent and cute.
But the moment I turned my back, pretending to leave the room, I caught you in action! Ah ha!
And yes, I am FULLY aware of the fact that you are wearing basketball pajamas.
Because that's what happens when you have older brothers, and a slacker laundry mother.
You also climbed up into my computer chair and tried to sabotage this post, but I caught you in time, barely.
Oh, and lets not forget last week.
I had JUST finished cleaning the kitchen. Such joy, such peace.
Then a loud clatter brought me a runnin'.
Yea, daddy, was not too happy when you broke the drawer a couple days later.
And guess who got in trouble for it! Go on, guess!! That's right young missy, it certainly wasn't YOU!
And instead of feeling all remorseful and guilty, you rolled onto the floor and tried to smooch and cutsify your way out of trouble. (because "cutsify" is a cool word)
But I didn't fall for it! No sirree.... *arms folded across chest with my sternest face on... except for that dang smile that kept trying to creep up onto my face*
(interject real time event) "MOOOMMMMYYYYY!!!! Layna's on the counter and she made a mess with the yogurt!!"
That's it! You've officially driven me to the edge and so I must now take drastic measures.
Store tender, give me the good stuff.
Double shot of chocolate.