Tag Archives: too much climbing

‘Edward’

Isn’t it interesting how things suddenly seem to change in a period of, say, 24 hours? And of course I am talking about children. As that is all I talk about because, well, that’s pretty much all there is going on.

There was forewarning, but we didn’t recognize the signs…

Thursday night, V called Daddy by his first name.

“Dad. Daddy. Daaaddddddyyy. DAD! Edward!”

*He wishes his real name to not be used, so I am using his middle. And that choice has absolutely nothing to do with having just watched Eclipse this afternoon.

Well, whatever we are calling him, it certainly got our attention. And then I laughed my face off. Last night at our family chili dinner, V did it again much to the delight of his Grandparents and Auntie.

And this morning, just after I left to hit up the movies with my girlfriend, M (or Edward) called and told me that V was running around the house looking for me, shouting “Mummy! Mum!!! MUMMY! Jaime!!!!!”.

Still, I find it quite funny. And probably will until heĀ  starts using it as his primary name for me. My game plan is to (try to) not react to it at all. Wish me luck with that.

And moving on?

Moving on to V learning how to climb up his changing table.

‘Edward’ told me all about it Friday morning when he woke up on V’s floor (you know, since we are having night-time issues). He was still 3/4 asleep and V cleverly chose that moment to climb up his changing table. It looks like a 2 level book shelf and I guess that is helpful. Make it kind of like ‘steps’.

I laughed it off a bit when ‘Edward’ told me about the incident. Until this evening when he did it about twelve times. Right in the middle of bedtime.

Now this may sound like there is no control in our house. Really there is. This just happened to be a bad 2 minutes.

So while I moved the changed table out into the hall, rearranged the whole room and contemplated Ikea tomorrow morning, Vince read some books. Edward came upstairs and finished off the evening routine.

I lugged the table downstairs to the garage. And as I dragged it out through the courtyard I really had a good look at it. A proper good look. I think the last time I really noticed it as a piece of furniture was when I bought it. And I was hugely pregnant then. And then after? I ignored it. It is, after all, a receptacle for poo, diapers, powder and bums.

But as I was pushing it in to place in the garage, I looked at it properly.

Was the high rail supposed to be facing outward into the room? Or was the low rail. Because there is one of each. And we have always had the lower rail facing the room, with the high rail against the wall. But as I looked at it again and squinted and thought…

Shoot. Have I been changing my son incorrectly for 2 years? Has he been in non-stop danger of falling off the table? And then I laughed.

Not like it matters now, since we will be changing him on the floor, while we push the ‘big boy pants’ and the ‘stinky icky poo’ and then push the potty like an m-f’er.

There is now no place at all to keep V’s many many books. They are piled up all over his bedroom floor. Hence Ikea tomorrow.

But on an up note, his room seems bigger. And the cosy chair we have in his room is now positioned nearer a window which equals better light for Jaime and Edward to read by as V falls asleep.

Doesn’t that kind of sound like I am married to a vampire?

xoxo a.m.

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