Thursday, February 10, 2011

Learn to like the cage.

M is my 2-year-old daughter. She has a knack for getting into everything that is either breakable or poisonous. It does not matter how high up it's been stored or even if there is a lock on the cabinet; she finds a way. Just ask the good folks at the state's poison control hotline. One more from us and they might start to answer our calls with, "You guys again?" She simply cannot be trusted.

Lately, she has really been into hanging out in her big brother's bed. She loves jumping, bouncing, cuddling under the covers, and climbing into the far corner where I can't reach her without climbing into the bed myself. She does this to avoid naps, baths, or just generally make me mad.

When I put her in her crib for a nap today, she told me, "I want a big-girl bed. This is too tight." Just to illustrate her point, she grabbed slats on either side of the bed to show me how "tight" it really is.

Sorry, sweets. As far as I'm concerned, you'll be in a crib until you're 18, because that's how little I trust you. There is no way that I am giving you the physical freedom to get up from your bed. I fear for your safety and the structural integrity of my house if you have such freedom. Who knows what I might come down to in the morning? The last time I took a risk and left you unsupervised so I could go out to shovel snow, I came back to find my living room walls, floor and furniture freshly decorated. With maxi pads. They were stuck everywhere. Granted, nothing was broken and there was no call to my friends on Speed Dial #1 (my pals at poison control), but you did waste a package of maxi pads. The next time I'm in need and I don't have any in the house, I will blame you.

So, my dear, get used to sleeping in the fetal position, because it will be the only way you'll fit in that crib when you're 16. Oh, and then, it will probably have a padlock on it. I'll trust you even less by then.

No comments:

Post a Comment