Monday, February 25, 2008


Adam often hints around wondering why I might not have dinner ready when he gets home. Nothing obnoxious, but I can tell he wonders. The reason why is often so absurd that it is almost like the "dog ate my homework" excuse.

Today as I tried to peel and chop potatoes for the umteenth time, I reached down to grab a cutting board. Realizing that all of our cabinets are locked I looked to the refrigerator where we keep the kitchen magnet. I couldn't find it amidst the alphabet magnets, so I went to the living room to get that one.

I passed Henry trying to color on his chair or dump real food into his sink, I don't quite remember. I smelled something off that might indicate he needed his thirty-second change that day. I chased him for a few minutes and finally carried him screaming into the bedroom. I wrestled with him on the bed for another few minutes and tried to distract him with forbidden objects.

I then remembered that he needed his eye drops and tried to think why I didn't do them earlier. Oh yes, I remember. On his last diaper change he grabbed them and threw them behind the headboard. With his pacifier and his hand puppet. I leaned over and tried to grab them from the bed with Henry smacking me in the back. I then moved to either side of the bed and still couldn't find them.

I finally got a new shirt and onesie on him (his fourth outfit change of the day) because he was soaked in milk. I didn't manage to button it or get his pants on before he ran away. I just put his slippers on his bare feet and gave up.

I went back to the kitchen to wash my hands and saw the potatoes. I remembered the magnet and found it in the living room. Henry was running it along the cabinets trying to jimmy the locks. I retrieved it and went back to the kitchen. He followed me and proceeded to dig things out of the garbage can. After that he was screaming for drinks he didn't want, trying to shove his push toy through his tunnel, rumaging in the recycling bin, standing on his chair, digging change out of the diaper bag, throwing things in the bathtub, screaming for me to let him talk on the intercom phone...I have blocked out the rest of it, but you catch my drift. Sometimes I feel like I might be going crazy or be on Candid Camera.

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