I'm prefacing this post with the fact that I do love my child dearly, and I would never ever trade him in for anything other than what I've been given, but I've come to the decision that Aidan knew the exact day he turned 2, and has decided to live it out ever since.
It started with his birthday cake. A couple of days after his party, he pulled the remainder of that cake off the counter and smeared chocolate icing everywhere. Him and the dog had a good time devouring what they could before Daddy caught them.
Then last Tuesday, he broke his collarbone trying to be a dare devil climbing out of his crib.
The following Thursday, he emptied an entire bottle of children's tylenol. I didn't know how much he ingested, so I called poison control. Luckily, he was under the toxic limit even if he'd ingested the whole bottle. However, after I began the clean-up process, I don't believe he ingested any at all. Everything was sticky: Aidan, his door, his books, his floor, his bedside table, the hallway and kitchen where he tracked sticky footprints...So sticky that we had to rent a steam carpet clean from UHaul this past weekend to get it out. The plan was for me to do most of the cleaning, but that machine was so massive, I couldn't move it. Josh got to spend his Saturday night steam cleaning the carpets.
That's got to be the end, right? No. Let's fast forward to this week.
Yesterday, I had an OB appointment. I decided to be brave and forgo the stroller because it's just too hard to wheel that thing around the office. I took Aidan into the bathroom with me so I could give the nurse a urine sample. He immediately runs to the toilet paper roll. As I lunge to stop him, my insulin pump slides off my leg and into the toilet bowl. Slight panic. My insulin pump is not supposed to get wet. I got it out quick enough that no water got inside, and luckily, it was just water. I got my sample and go to wash my hands. I turn around, and Aidan has his hands inside the toilet bowl. Gross. I wash his hands. We go to walk down the hallway and deliver my sample to the nurses' station. Aidan determines that this would be the best time to take off running. I reach out to grab him, my purse slides off my shoulder and onto my arm, causing my cup o' pee to splash all over my hand and arm. I stand in shock for a moment before collecting myself. Aidan is already down the hall. I'm not chasing him. I turn around and go back to the bathroom to clean myself off. There is still enough of a sample left in the cup to salvage, so I return it to the nurses' station and go in search of my son, who at this point has realized I'm not chasing him and is calling, "Mama, mama." He was easy to find. My mother is *hopefully, crossing my fingers* coming to my next appointment with me. I'm having another sonogram and she would really like to see one since she never has. She will also be given the job of supervising my 2 year old.
And life at home, you ask? No, it's not any easier there. He's just as active and stubborn as in public. My house is a wreck, but my life is so hectic that I've reached the point of "I just don't care." It's kind of a sad place to be. Whoever said the life of a housewife is glamorous was just plain wrong.
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