Trouble

For the last few weeks of summer, ("Mom, I'm bored!"  "There's no one to play with!" "Do we have to?"  "Mom, she's teasing me!"  "It's hooooot!") I've been looking forward to school starting with a Christmas Eve-like anticipation.  Don't get me wrong.  My kids are my life, and I adore my girls.  I have loved the sleeping in, the relaxed days, and the girlies running around the neighborhood like free-range heathens.  Honestly though, I'm ready for a change in routine.  For weeks, I've thought blissfully of the hours I would have with just me and Baby Max.  I have grand plans to excercise daily, fold and put away all the laundry in a timely fashion, write and publish articles and keep a house that would make Better Homes and Gardens jealous.

Problem is?  I forgot to run all these ideas by my baby son, who today, took it upon himself to show me what the next few months were going  to be like.

It took him less than two minutes this morning to unroll the toilet paper and start throwing wads of used kleenex around the room.  I should be glad he didn't empty the entire trash can, or start ingesting the cleaner that some brilliant soul left on the floor.  And I should start remembering to put the lid of the toilet seat down before he learns to flush all of creation down the potty.

Then, a few minutes after my first violin lesson of the day left, Abby brought Max down exclaiming, "He's stinky."  Then the crying shrieking began because the baby brother, in all of his unselflessness, had shared some of the contents of his stinky diaper with her.  All over her white shorts.  Silly Abby.  Here Max was being so kind and giving, and all she could do was scream about how gross it was.   And of course, Max was still in a sharing kind of mood, so his poop ended up all over the carpet in my violin studio, all over his clothes, all over the living room carpet, (is it strange that my 9 month old can do situps while I'm changing his diaper) and all over me.

While I was practicing with Abby and Max was entertaining himself, (and distracting his sister) I noticed something even more disturbing than poop all over the carpet.  Max has been pulling himself to standing on things for a while now, but today I looked over to see him standing next to the chair, holding on with one hand.  Then letting go.  And standing.  By himself.  With no support.  At nine months old.  Naughty boy.  Each time he did it, he giggled gleefully, thrilled with his new trick.  He was able to balance himself for 30-45 seconds at a time.  Sigh.  Didn't I just give birth to him yesterday? We are SO not ready for a walking baby!

A few violin lessons later, I was picking up scattered baby toys while Max was crawling happily down the hall.  A couple of random giggles from him made me curious, so I peeked my head out to find that Max had found the cat's dishes, and had poured all the water out, making himself an improvised swimming pool.  He was thrilled to splash in the water, roll around covering himself in water and cat fur, and eating the cat food.  Yummy.  Another diaper change, and another complete outfit change.  No wonder I'm never caught up on laundry.

I brought him upstairs to wash my hands and he proceeded to gleefully empty out dvds from the cabinet all over the floor.  I tried to distract him and he started pulling clothes out of the laundry basket and tossing them all over the living room.  Dinner preparations were interrupted by him clearing out the entire bottom of my pantry, dumping a bag of potatoes all over the floor and banging them together in his hands like cymbals. So today was Max's reality check.  Somehow, I don't think I'll have an entirely clean house this year, or have the laundry folded and put away as soon as the dryer beeps.  Nope.  I may be sending the girls off to school, but it looks like my little man is going to triple his mischief to make up for their absense.