Gage was kind of a difficult baby. He was colicky, super clingy, and he had abnormally sensitive skin. So much so that for a three month period he developed such an intense diaper rash that we had to mix up a prescribed solution for every diaper change, and wrap him up in plastic wrap to keep the watery solution in place. No joke. But when toddler-hood hit, it was a breeze. Gage listened and followed directions. Time-outs worked wonders with him, and he was pretty scared of everything, which made things easy for me and Peppy.
Now Owsley, he was my easy baby. He would let most anyone hold him, he didn't cry much, and he was content just to sit and watch whatever we were doing. But now that he is a toddler, he is a total monster. He's not really mean. He is just super mischievous. And so sneaky too!
Owsley is good whenever I am around, which is basically 99.99999999% of the time, because I have learned that I can't leave him alone for more than a second. But he patiently waits for those moments that I have to run to the bathroom or go get a cup of milk for him. In my mind, I imagine that he is silently plotting his next move. He waits for the instant that he gets a tiny free moment to himself. And he strikes. With great force. Here is a list of things that he has done in the fifteen seconds it takes me to go to the bathroom:
*Pushes kitchen chairs up to the counter and climbs on top.
*Opens the refrigerator, pulls out random food, and begins to scream, "Lunch is so yummy!"
*Pulls out every single DVD or video game that he can find.
*Unhinges the lid and door to Pepper's crate. I'm pretty sure that he knows she runs in there to hide from him.
One time I walked out of the room and came back to Owsley pants (and diaper) less, standing on his rocking chair, peeing into the floor. Another evening we were all watching a Christmas show and Owsley runs to the kitchen, removes his pants and diaper at superhuman speed, and pees into Pepper's water bowl. Then he proudly returns to the couch to tell on himself.
And then there was the Sunday morning that Peppy was getting Pepper situated with all her stuff in the garage, while the boys were upstairs with me. They were playing in my bedroom floor, and I was in the bathroom. I walked into the closet to get a pair of tights. I walked back out and Owsley had grabbed a new bottle of blue bodywash from the counter, and was pouring it into the carpet. While I tried to clean that up, he grabbed the handsoap and squirted it all in his hair. I guess I never realized how lucky we were that Gage was so short.
Another day I left the boys in Owsley's room while I went to brush my teeth. When I came back, Owsley had knocked over the rocking chair and bookshelf, and dumped out his plastic toy chest. And somehow had managed to climb on top of his changing table and was jumping on top of it.
And just this past week he has learned that he can open closed doors. Yikes. I was putting up some folded laundry when I heard Gage screaming for me to come quickly. Owsley had opened their bathroom door and was attempting to flush a plastic banana down the toilet. Since we have begun potty training, he is obsessed with flushing the toilet. Over the past couple of weeks I have had to fish out two toothbrushes, a matchbox car, pair of handcuffs, and a glass Christmas bear that's head snapped off when he chunked it into the porcelain bowl. (Since I have been playing around in the toilet water, our commodes have been cleaned pretty much every single day.)
Most recently, I came downstairs with a big box and told the boys we were going to be taking down the Christmas tree. Owsley's face lit up with a huge grin, and he ran across the house at full speed, and body-slammed the poor tree to the floor. When he stood up he looked so very proud of himself. I asked him why he did what he did, and he responded with, 'You told me.' Ok. I can't argue with that. Maybe I should have been a little more specific. I'm just surprised that nothing broke.
I can only imagine the destruction that might occur if I closed my eyes for a minute.