There’s a certain type of panic which ascends our house when we realise the Toddler is quiet. Silence isn’t golden in our little house, it’s suspicious and I’m usually the first to shout out
Where’s he gone?
Knowing that 9 times out 10 im not going to like what I find, I’m always a little hesitant to go and survey the damage, ignorance is definitely bliss. Knowing means an inevitable clean up operation.
I use to think that it was coincidence but I soon realised that he’s well aware of the moments when I’ve taken my eye off the ball as he keeps check on whether I’m looking or not and his reaction when I finally find him; a mixture of excitement at the thrill of being caught and it wasn’t me is often the case.
Many times I’ve rationalised the pen marks on the wall, mascara on the carpet & tooth brushes down the plug hole as a display of creativity and fine motor skill development. while other times I’ve just taken a deep breath, counted to 10 and vowed never to let him out of my sight again while uttering expletives under my breath.
The latter was the case this morning when I approached the closed-door to his brother’s bedroom and caught the words ‘poo’ being chanted from the other side.
So how did I respond to this scene which awaited me in the 2 minute loo break I took yesterday? Well after the initial
pants, he’s worked out how to push his little chair round to reach the ‘it’ll be safe here’ areas.
I thought about the extra vitamins he’d consumed in each little bite, that he’d probably managed 3 of his 5 a day and that now he could fetch his own snacks.
And then promptly hid the chair!