Suddenly, it seems like every other word out of my mouth is, “No.” (The alternate word is still “Fuck;” I’m finding that one to be a tough habit to break.)
I’d been warned that this day would come. My older sister once said to me, “Just wait for it, one day you’ll see. Once they start moving, they know exactly where you don’t want them to go and what you don’t want them to touch. And that’s what they want to do more than anything in the world.”
That day has come. Little Dude has progressed well beyond the “baby” stage and into “toddler,” a word that is apparently synonymous with, “NOOOOOOOO! GET AWAY FROM THERE! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING??? (And sometimes, as the above photo indicates, “NO, HONEY, GET BACK HERE, YOU CAN’T GO BEHIND THE BAR!”)
This kid is simply into everything, and does not enjoy being still. Diaper changing has become a logistical nightmare – I could use a whole other set of arms just to pin his limbs down while I make the switch. (I occasionally need to interrupt Mommy’s work day to call her in for reinforcements.) And – I tremor as I write these words – yesterday, he figured out how to climb onto the couch.
God help me. I think I’m unlikely to stop cursing anytime soon.