I swear, Baby J is going to be the first one with stitches or a broken bone.
I have never seen a more adventurous baby than my little Baby J. He is truly living his little life on the edge. He’s curious about everything, always trying to open up cabinets and look into boxes or baskets to find out whatever is hiding in them. I admire his need to investigate everything despite how frustrated I may get when he gets into the box of wires fifteen times in a row.
We have to keep the baby gate up between the living room and kitchen because of his endless curiosity about the taste of dog food and his need to open drawers or play with my mixer. The bathroom door stays closed 100% of the time, otherwise he lifts the toilet seat, plays with the trash can, finds the toilet brush and pulls open the cupboard. His big brother’s room (which is practically his as well) has been rid of any and all small toys or pieces of toys so that there are zero choking hazards in there. However, he will reach for the blinds and yank on them if they aren’t pulled up or grab for the night light if it is still plugged in.
His true sense of danger becomes the most apparent when I, or my boyfriend, have a “duh moment” and forget to close the gate to the upstairs. This little bitty eleven month old nugget has been able to walk since December 28th, but he’s been able to climb stairs for even longer than that. Just the other day I had a bad mommy moment. See, what with my increasing degree of pregnancy I can no longer hop over the gate and need to open it in order to access the upstairs. Normally I’m great about closing the gate behind me, but not always… I left the room, came back in, and realized that Baby J wasn’t out in the living room. My heart sank, I knew right where he was and I ran to the stairs, there he was nearly at the landing (ten stairs up).
Then there’s his new trick of climbing onto anything he can get his legs up on. This includes but is not limited to the table in the living room, the boys new rocking chair, his brother’s dinner chair, the toy box and the scooter that he got for Christmas. It doesn’t matter if it rocks, rolls or sits stationary, if he can get his feet or knees up on top then he’s lifting the rest of himself up there as well.
I know the old phrase, boys will be boys, but I never quite imagined that a little boy of not even one year old could be quite so risky. I already worry about him and the older he gets the more risky his behavior is sure to be. Oye…