Go away, mommy.

This is what I hear most often from Boden, it seems...well, it's a close second to "No", that's still his favorite answer.  I hear this phrase when I'm telling him "No...

• "...you can't put your hand on the stove while we're cooking noodles.  You'll burn yourself and it will hurt very bad."
• "...you can't jump off the top step to the landing.  You'll get a big owie."
• "...you can't ride on the dogs.  They don't like it."
• "...you can't go outside without shoes and socks on when it's 3 degrees out.  You'll lose your feet."

Basically, every time I try to be a parent.  Sigh.  On the flip side, he's also started saying "I lub you, mommy." so that kind of makes up for things a little bit.

The day I lost my chin

In this video, Boden shows off his mad running skills--he's becoming really quick, but his feet sometimes get ahead of him and it reminds me of a goofy little puppy.

The video also show off the incredibly large scab that now covers the spot where his adorable little chin used to be.  Me and Todd's parents were watching Boden (watching being the operative word, here) skillfully maneuver his way across a rock bed in our yard, and we were actually marvelling over his accomplishments--like "wow, his balance is really good", "look at him, he's like a little mountain go--oh, no!".  Yep, that's when we watched him spill forward and had there not been a sawed off piece of timber there to catch his fall, he might have come through it, unscathed.  Luckily, though, he was able to drag his face down the rough edge of the log and come up bleeding and crying.  Ugh.  Not sure if I should be checking into plastic surgeons, yet, or if his fresh baby skin will regenerate and heal without a scar. 

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.

Pick it up.

I say these words about 1,001 times per day. Boden is in a horrible habit of throwing down his sippy cups, toast, crackers, shoes, "monkey", and everything else he runs off with onto the floor wherever. Some things I don't really care about (bad momma) but the food and cups are really annoying to constantly pick up and I don't think it's especially safe for Boden to be toddling about with mouthfuls of choking hazards (fruit, toast, crackers). Of course, the simple way around this is to follow daycare rules and eat and drink only while sitting down. As I was practically chasing Boden around the daycare room this morning with a waffle in his hand gently reminding him that he needs to sit until he's all done, his teacher chimed in something about choking while eating on the run. Yep, I've got a couple bad habits to break. At least he didn't throw his waffle on the floor while I was there. Once again, the daycare way of life has pointed out my lackadaisical parenting skills...sigh.

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.

Bumpy ride into the danger zone

Last night, Boden nearly succeeded in really harming himself, (burnt his finger on the oven door, nearly knocked himself out by running into the doorjamb, and dropped a full sippy cup onto his little toe).  After putting him to bed, I sank into a chair feeling both mentally and physically exhausted.  It reminded me of Sylvester the cat in the cartoon episodes where his owner leaves him in charge of the baby while she's out for the day (yes, it's a silly plot):  he runs around the whole day averting disaster for the unknowing little tyke and ends up getting the angelic babe asleep right before the owner returns.  The whole adventure leaves him feeling spent and bedraggled. Years later, I can now relate to this. 

The fun continues today, too.  By noon, Boden had cut open his forehead by falling face first into the banister...Captain Danger is into everything!  I need to spend the rest of his nap time throwing rubber mats down and putting bubble wrap on everything.

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.)