Tuesday, June 26, 2012

A Gray Hair Day

When I told Lewis that I was going to blog about today, he told me that it didn't seem believable.  To that I replied, "All the more reason."

The events that transpired today could each take up their own post.  But I want the world to know what my day was like and how I am positive that even more of my hair has turned gray because of it.

Allow me to explain.

At Smith's the other day, a smiling lady handed me a bag of samples from P&G.  Included in this bag was a travel-size bottle of Old Spice body wash.  Upon smelling it I determined that it was the same scent an old boyfriend and possibly one of my brothers uses and therefore could not be used by Lewis.  That would be weird.  It stayed in the bag until Jack decided to pull it out and play with it.

It being body wash and all (not exactly potable), I kept my eye on Jack while he played.  Should I have taken it away from him immediately?  Probably.  But I didn't.  He doesn't know how to open bottles like that yet.

Or should I say didn't.

As soon I saw him flip open the top I rushed over to take it away from him before he ingested any.  Before I got there, though, he turned the bottle upside down and squeezed.

I now have Old Spice-scented carpet.

As I was cleaning up the floor, Jack crept into the bathroom and did this:


My family is coming to town this week, so I have been trying to get the house ready for them.  One of the things I have been putting off is giving our guest bathroom a good once over.  I tend to not clean that bathroom as often as I should, for a number of reasons.  1) It's really only used for bathing Jack.  2) I do most of my cleaning when Jack is asleep and it is right next to his bedroom so cleaning it then would surely wake him.  3) The bathroom is right at the top of the stairs and up until this weekend we hadn't bothered to buy baby gates so I couldn't very well do it while he was awake.

I knew it had to get done, though, and today seemed as good a day as any.  So I dragged one of the baby gates upstairs.  As I tried to put it up, however, I noticed a problem.  It's a pressurized gate, so to work properly it has to be pushing into the wall in a straight line on both sides.  Well we have these lovely five-inch baseboards all over our house, so the gate has to go at least five inches off the ground.  But then at the top of the stairs the bannister thingy has a layer or something - You know what?  I'm just going to go take a picture to show you what I mean.  Here you go:

As you can see, there is plenty of space for a baby to slide under, particularly a baby with a small head and an intense desire to go down the stairs all on his own.  This would not do at all.  To compensate, I put a couple of boxes in front of it to block the gap.  I wasn't super satisfied with the results, but Jack tends to follow me around, so I figured I'd be able to stop him if he did try to move the boxes.

I was wrong.

It happened so quickly.  One moment he was playing happily in the doorway of the laundry room while I loaded it with towels from the linen closet and the next he was gone.  I rushed out of the laundry room in time to watch him tumble down the last few steps onto the landing in front of the window.  Thankfully he only fell down the top part of the stairs, before it turns and goes the rest of the way down.  That worst part was that I could have caught him after only the first three steps if that gate hadn't been there.

As soon as Jack stopped his rapid descent he rolled over and started wailing.  I gently picked him up and made him move everything to make sure he wasn't hurt.  As soon as he was in my arms he stopped crying and, in fact, started giggling.  He must think that his mother sobbing is funny.  Oh, did I not mention I was sobbing?  It was the scariest mommy-moment I have every had.  And he wasn't even hurt!

Once I was satisfied he was fine, I just held him close and rocked him, apologizing over and over (while he chuckled).  Then he abruptly pushed off of my stomach and took a flying leap towards the rest of the stairs.  He was evidently ready for round two.

Heaven help us.  We have a thrill-seeker.


Around the time we were expecting Lewis home from school, he called to say he would be late.  While he was at school, someone stole his car's catalytic converter from the commuter lot by the bus stop.  Fantastic.  Jack and I arrive just in time to see a police officer taking finger prints.  Jack's first crime scene!  What a milestone!  I hope the thief steps on a Lego.


Other fun things, scattered throughout the day:

- I let Jack eat a tissue because it was the lesser of two evils.

- Jack discovered that Chex make a delightful sound when they hit the floor from the height of his high chair.

- Jack dumped the contents of his toy basket all over the floor.  Twice.

- Jack pulled over a trash can containing poopy wipes, effectively distributing the wipes throughout the bathroom.  I was holding him at the time.  I still haven't worked out how he did that.

It was certainly a day during which I had to keep reminding myself to laugh instead of groan.  Mostly I compromised by just sighing.

If nothing else, I feel confident we will look back on this day and laugh, although perhaps with an eye roll or two.  Except the catalytic converter part.  That part will always suck.

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