He's two-and-a-half. Good thing he’s cute.
He climbed out of his crib 17 times at naptime. Ok, maybe not 17, but enough that it would have driven me crazy, so I left. He doesn't want to stay on the big boy bed, but he doesn't want to sleep in his crib either. I came home to find him sneaking around in Seneca's room... she was sound asleep.
I said, "don't touch the sunscreen, I'll help you in a minute." A few minutes later I hear a scream. He pointed the nozzle right at his face and sprayed... lots of sunscreen right into his eye. Good grief.
I said, "use your walking feet, please." He ran, tripped and smacked his forehead on the pool deck. Bummer. New goose egg for church.
I said, "your bike does not come in the pool fence, or we're done outside." He proceeds to walk out of the fence, get on the bike and ride right in. We were done. He was not happy.
I said, "you're welcome to help, but don't touch the pan. It's hot. It will burn you." "ok, I won’t." "OWWW!!! It's hot!!" Well, yes, I just told you that.
How many times does he have to learn the hard way that I am very wise and he should just listen to me? Mom? How many?? I'm afraid to know that answer because I remember my mom saying the same things to me over and over and over. And I was much older than two-and-a-half.
more dancing-on-the-dock pics to come.