Lego mania

Boden is definitely crazy about his Legos.  He has many sets of tiny, tiny pieces scattered all over his playroom floor as proof of his mania.  Even though he doesn't play with them everyday, he's informed me they can't possibly be picked up because he wouldn't be able to see them all.  Yep, this is true and that is the point.  While I'm happy he's finally broke free of the instruction book and is starting to use his "magination" to build his own creations, the tiny pieces, a curious crawler, and a mom who would like to occasionally vacuum and clean up the ever cluttered room do not mix.  So Boden gets to lock himself in his playroom during Lego time and August pounds on the door wanting to be part of the action ( i.e. Destroy what Boden is working on like a mini Godzilla and shove pieces in his mouth.). And I get to vacuum around pieces while trying not to get mini megaphones/tires/headlights/sharks/life jackets/etc lodged in my foot in an attempt to keep the dog hair and the dirt that travels with little boys at bay.

"I am Duplo.  I come to destroy you."

Boden- proud of his latest rescue station, complete with landscaping and a lighthouse.

If only I were taller...

Boden seems to know exactly what he would do if he were 6 inches taller.  I brought home a kid stool the other day thinking how empowering it would be for him to be able wash his own hands in the sink, reach the light switches, and get some books off of his dresser.  I handed it to him and he didn't miss a beat: He grabbed it and headed for the pantry, used his newfound 6 inches in height to reach the toaster oven buttons.  Of course, that was a "no, no", so he picked it up again and placed the stool right under the refrigerator door where he pressed the ice button repeatedly...another "no, no".  Hmmm, maybe a stool wasn't such a good idea.

Bed time

Last week, Boden made tons of progress in fine tuning his motor skills. He figured out how to open all the doors in the house (interior), then he figured out how to bypass all the "safety locks" for all the doors in the house. Natural progression, right? We thought it would take longer than 24 hours to accomplish, though.

He also figured out how to wedge his meaty little thigh between the bars of his crib. A logical person would say "great, my leg's caught. I'm going to have to calm down and wait for someone to help me." Boden chose the frantic route of writhing and pulling while screaming his lungs out. It happened twice and his leg was completely bruised all around his knee. I felt horrible and was convinced his crib was unsafe.

To prevent him from jamming his leg between the crib slats again, we got a mesh bumper to wrap around his crib; which he promptly figured out how to use as a ladder to freedom: Todd woke me up the other night with a "what was that?". I said "he's crying, let's wait a sec and see if he calms down". Todd "what if he got his leg caught again?". "I'll peek in. Wait, does it sound like his cries are getting closer?" I asked as I opened our bedroom door to find Boden running down the hall towards me.

Hmmm, guess that bumper didn't quite work the way we had hoped. We're on to plan D, now. Goal: no bed for this kid until we absolutely have to or he's going to be running into our bedroom every night...and I'll never sleep again.

Child proof, schmild proof.

Over the course of a couple days, the part of Boden's baby brain that figures out child-resistant safety locks, caps, and such has kicked into overdrive. He's on the fast track to becoming the next great Houdini...or a criminal with a long rap sheet for breaking and entering. He now plucks out the electrical socket caps (and brings them to me), has mastered child-resistant caps on medication bottles, can climb up his high chair like a skilled mountaineer, and understands how the safety gate works but thankfully isn't strong enough to pry it open on his own. It seems our "child-proofing" is just creating more thought-provoking tasks and teaching him problem solving techniques...while keeping us on our toes. I predict he'll have the cabinet door locks figured out by Thursday and the Rubic's cube solved this weekend.

Sit still?

Boden is so much fun, right now...and a real handful.  He is in constant motion from literally the moment he wakes up.  This morning, I brought him to bed for a little extra dozing because he was still sleepy (yea!) after nursing.  As I was debating whether or not I should get out of my cozy spot,  I watched him sleep soundly on his back with his arms flung upwards and legs spread (i.e. not leaving a lot of room for mom and dad to sleep comfortably).  I was thinking "awwww, how peaceful and sweet he is" when, in an instant, he went from eyes shut, heavy deep breathing to eyes wide open, straight to standing in an instant.  From that moment we were off and running..."Boden, come here.  Boden, where did you go?  Boden we don't play with Tylenol bottles even if they are "child-proof".  Boden, don't pinch the dog...again.  Boden, stay out of the garbage.  Boden, don't feed the dogs.  Boden, please, stop feeding the dogs.  Boden, stay out of the dog dish.  No, Boden, we don't play in the toilet."  And this is all before I had a chance to pour myself some coffee.  Whew.  It's like trying to manage a bull in a china shop--disaster looms around every corner.

Picture:  Boden is a blur because he wouldn't stop moving :)

Safety. Dance.

Boden's head continued to break his tumbles this week. In addition to the goose egg on his forehead, I helped him out with another bruise right next to it by dropping a sea shell (my bribe to keep him "in position" on the changing table) on his head. He followed that up with two more bruises at daycare.

I used to feel like I just needed to protect Boden from the big worries (child predators, falling into the lake, tumbling down the steps, getting run over). But learning to walk has led to a new sense of autonomy and adventure for Boden and I now see that every little corner, rift in the carpet, and open drawer is a potential threat to my little one's safety--and it makes me feel like every day is marked with flashing yellow caution/beware lights. Every waking moment I'm with Boden, I'm putting my hand over corners, moving dogs, pushing in chairs, telling him to duck, shutting toilet lids, closing drawers (or getting my own hands slammed in them), re-directing him to "safer" activities...etc. and it's exhausting.

I remember awhile ago, stopping my car for a mama deer and her fawn to cross the road and I yelled to the mama, you need to be safer with your fawn, lady, because I'm not always going to be around. Look both ways! I told Todd if I could make a living patrolling the highways to help animals cross safely, I would do it because the sight of any animal who's met his death by way of an ill-timed road crossing brings me to tears--always. While it's definitely part of my nature to keep my own "little deer" safe, I'm apt to going a bit overboard. It's clear that I'm on the path to becoming the dreaded "helicopter parent". Today, I'm clearing away physical obstacles to make Boden's life easier and in 17 years I'll be writing Boden's college application essays and arguing with college admission's offices about why my son didn't get accepted.

(Video: Boden gettin' his groove on.)