Deconstruction Zone — Hard Hat Required

Let's talk about why I am not blogging so much recently.



Nuf sed?

Don't be fooled by the cuteness. She is one busy sucker. Her day usually consists of...

* pulling clothing out of any drawer she can open.
*playing in the toilet if someone leaves the lid up.
*rummaging through the ribbon drawer and dragging said ribbon throughout the house.
*pulling books or videos off the shelves.
*putting random items in the garbage.
*taking random objects out of the garbage.
*pulling over furniture that is not cemented down (my floor lamp was a casualty this week).
*climbing anything and everything.
*unrolling a whole roll of toilet paper or taking out tissues one by one from the box.
*finding fun small objects to stick in her mouth.
*taking dirt out of my plants (my first child to do this).
*etc, etc.



Wow, I am having a hard time keeping up. I realize this is normal for any toddler, but I think the pregnancy or my thirties (heaven forbid) are slowing me down. There is still nap time, but I spend that either sleeping or cleaning up something.

I feel bad because this affects my time with other kids to some degree. Take for instance today, while I tried to read a book to Robyn (Sam and the Firefly—one of our favorites). It went something like this:

Read five pages, handed book to Robyn, took baby off a chair where she had climbed up and was taking crayons one by one and throwing them on the floor.

Read five pages, handed book to Robyn, took baby off the stool where she was standing, shaking the Caladryl vigorously (thank goodness it was still closed). Hid stool once again and cursed whoever got it out.

Read five pages, handed book to Robyn, took baby off the dining room table where she had managed to climb despite my best efforts to push all the chairs in and block her.

We finally resorted to putting cheerios on the ground next to us hoping to distract her long enough to finish the book.

She really is a darling good baby with a mischievous smile that makes you laugh, but I am finding out quickly enough that my house is hardly baby-proof.