NO MEANS NO
I’ve said it so many times, he probably thinks that’s his name.
My kid is a little troublemaker. I mean that with the utmost love. He does his mischief and then he flashes his adorable smile, and you immediately melt. He may only be 10 months old but he’s got this game down pat. He only wants to do the exact thing I don’t want him to do. All the time. And the more I stop him from doing it, the more determined he becomes to continue doing it. And I’m about to lose my freaking mind. I’m in so much trouble.
Now that he’s on the move, he refuses to sit still. He’s got to be army-crawling all over the place or pretending he is while he’s on the changing table. The legs are going a mile a minute and diaper changes are nearly impossible. Forget about trying to put pajamas on this kid. It takes 25 minutes and I’ve been kicked in the arm, the boob, and the face multiple times. Eventually I’m forced to put him in a choke hold with my entire upper body in order to just get a diaper on. This happens every night while I frantically beg “Nathan, NO, STOP please, NO”, and he hysterically laughs at me.
At least somebody thinks my struggles are funny.
Once he’s on the floor, he cannot be contained. The second he’s down, he’s off to the races right toward the kitchen to put his hands in the cat’s water bowl. It’s all he wants to do in life… now that I’ve removed the cat’s bed, which was the only thing he wanted to do before. The cat is not pleased. Tons of toys, books, anything a little boy could desire, but no, I turn around and he’s eating cat toys again. (The pink wind-up mouse seems to be his favorite, closely followed by the Donald Trump catnip doll.) Saying NO only seems to make him want to do it more. “Nathan, NO, that is not yours.” He is completely undeterred and only more determined to do the one thing I told him not to do... touch the cat bowl. Fairly quickly I start getting tired of picking him up and bringing him back.
It’s like the Planet Fitness commercial. I pick him up. I put him down.
I can outsmart a 10 month old right? How hard could this be? So I build a barricade of bags and toys to block the way into the kitchen and he promptly climbs over it. I pick him up and put him back. He makes a beeline for the water bowl. Nathan, NO, stop! I pick him up again. He’s headed toward the bowl. NOOOOOOO! I’m so exhausted I almost don’t care if he drinks cat water at this point. The only option I’m left with besides strapping him into the stroller for a walk, is plopping him inside the Superyard, otherwise known as baby jail, which I realize is a little insensitive given the current events at the border. Here’s the catch though. This kid is not dumb. As soon as I put him in there he starts to cry. He will ONLY play in there if I’m inside the jail with him. Let me repeat that. He will only play in there if I am also inside. So there I sit. Locked inside baby jail. Watching the cat walk by on the outside looking really confused like he’s at a reverse zoo. No, Bailey, don't feed the animals. The last time I was in there, I literally got locked inside. I locked myself inside baby jail. For the life of me, I could not open the door from inside and had to clumsily climb over it. Clearly it's time for some gates in my house…