• J Mess

SUNDAY FUNDAY

Why can't school be 7 days a week?


My husband and I should have had our heads examined to spend one rainy Sunday stuck in the house with our 15-month old. We are clearly not nearly as exciting as all of his friends and activities at daycare and he's sick of us almost exactly after breakfast with only 8 more hours of entertaining a toddler to go. Looking back we probably should have braved the monsoon and piled him into the car to hit the mall, the Target, the loony bin, or anywhere that involved leaving the house. But instead barely survived the grabby hands, quick escapes, SpongeBob marathon, and endless energy of our toddler. Allow me to detail our day.


Woke up bright eyed and poopy-butted at 7am. Ate some things, threw most others, and yelled that it's not coming fast enough the rest of the time. Immediately after being sprung from his high chair, he ran into the living room and made a beeline for the television controllers. Recently I've taken to hiding them behind a pillow because once he has them he either smashes them on the ground until the batteries come out, or he presses every single button and weird things happen that we can't undo. This time he changed the sound bar setting to blue tooth and it took us 45 minutes to figure out how to change it back. Last time he almost ordered the NHL on demand package.


Maybe it should be NAP TIME soon??? Sleeps for 10 minutes. Whines for 20.

And we're back downstairs and we've found the clicker again. This kid is like a tiny, evil Sherlock Holmes. A couple of buttons are pushed and now the closed captioning is on. A couple more and we've arrived at some complex menu screen I've never seen before. 10 seconds later we're watching Telemundo. Just wait, in a few days I'll sit down to catch up on DVR and realize he's accidentally taped 100 shows. One day I asked my husband, "honey did you record PBS Newshour?", and he said, no maybe Nathan did. Yup sure did. After pressing all of the buttons, he grew bored and deposited the clicker in the bookcase.


We've now taken our show on the road over by the front door and begun removing all of the dirty laundry from the hamper. This is going to sound weird, but this activity actually keeps him quiet and entertained for long periods of time. He sits and diligently takes each item out of the basket and then attempts to put on ALL of the clothing, but ends up just wrapping them sloppily around his head like a scarf. And when they fall off, he puts them back on again. We get a blessed 15 minutes of quiet time before he's had enough of that and moved onto taking everything out of my purse. This game is significantly less fun (for me) because the stuff he's taking out is a little bit more important. Like my wallet. Or my keys. Which he takes out, starts pressing buttons and opens the trunk of my car. Luckily I noticed.


I desperately didn't want to ruin my kitchen cabinets by screwing child-locks into them. I pay the price for that everyday.

I feel like my entire life is now one giant scavenger hunt to find my own belongings. He's like a little dog hiding bones all over the house, except the bones are things I actually need and there's a good chance I'll never find again. My sunglasses were in a basket underneath a throw blanket. Right next to a half empty bottle of water and a crayon. And sometime during his next escapade of taking everything out of all of the kitchen cabinets, he decided to place my old work ID (that he took out of my purse) inside a loaf pan. Then he took out every single one of the cutting boards and used a colander as a hat. Meanwhile it's not even noon yet.



We have some lunch which at least keeps him contained for a short time. And then he's back at it. Removing all of the books from the bookcase, tearing the covers off, and then tearing them in half. Ripping apart all of the magazines into tiny shreds. Then climbing into the cat's bed, because nobody should be left out of the terror, oops I meant fun of this day. Is it bedtime yet?...



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