Yesterday was a day
Feb. 10th, 2011 01:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sethrakThe usual morning routine involves bring Mark downstairs with an armload of clothes and school uniform; swapping his diaper and pajamas for a pullup and play clothes; setting him up with breakfast and morning PBSKids; and adjourning to the computer in the next room for a quick check of email and one or two webcomics. Then I check on Mark, who is usually bouncing merrily on the couch, refill his straw cup with juice, and head up to get Jack. Frequently I have to make him put his pants and/or socks back on, as he's developed a fascination with removing them, and while we haven't had Fimbulwinter, it's too cold this time of year for such shenanigans. That's a minor and tolerable annoyance.
Yesterday morning, I re-entered the living room to find Mark kneeling on the narrow rim of counter in front of the sink, arched over the sink, hands resting on the windowsill above the sink. ::massive face-palm:: He was also pantless and sockless, but this paled in comparison to the danger of climbing up there.
To make matters worse, there were no toys or other objects on the floor in front of the sink that might have assisted in his climb. No, he shimmied up there entirely by brute strength and agility of his own. ::massive face-palm::
Keep in mind, we store two knife blocks on the kitchen counter. Hidden in a back corner behind a wooden rack for jars of flour and rice etc., but that only prevents Acts of Zodling if said Zodling can only reach as far as tiptoes and possibly standing on a train engine can get him.
I freaked out. He was utterly confused as to why. I spanked him and hauled his butt up to his room, so I could calm down and figure out what to do about the knives. We'd already found that the cupboard shelves were too short to accommodate the longer knives at the top of the blocks. Ended up rearranging the contents of the pantry closet, which has shelves farther apart but is less conveniently located than the counter corner had been. It was either that or be afraid to use the bathroom when Dav isn't home, lest Mark do himself an injury.
>_<
Brought Jack down. He was excellently behaved all day. Brought Mark down a few minutes later. He had removed his pullup while I was rearranging things, and dancing about his bedroom merrily. ::sigh:: Clearly was unfazed by his punishment, or anything else.
The entire day went much like that. Mark removed his pants frequently, complained mightily about putting them back on. Removed couch cushions frequently, complained mightily about being expected to help Mommy even a little in replacing them. Kept shoving his cup into my hand but refusing to even say "juice" much less the accustomed "juice please" or his newly-learned "I want juice please". Same thing with triscuits. Had tantrums when I held my ground.
Even better, I was feeling fairly sick most of yesterday, so I was in no mood for shenanigans.
Ended up sticking Jack in his room for a couple hours, after Mark went to school, so I could nap. I felt bad about the idea, which was Dav's.... Until I caught Jack very very quietly sliding a dining room chair over to the fishtank and lifting the lid to splash at the poor fish.
He didn't mind going to his room at all. Mark would have pitched a fit, removed all his clothing, trashed his room, and had toilet training issues. Jack just tried using his Big Blue Eyes of WHYYYYYY Mommy, WHYYYYYY? as I left the room; then he played happily with his musical and talking toys until I came to get him. I could hear the Talking Buddy sneezing and saying "I smell meat!" over and over again. ^_^
Mark's behavior improved very little when he came home; he ended up getting an early bedtime.
Jack remained 99% good, with only short outbreaks of whining at being expected to taste the chili dogs we made for dinner. (The fries, of course, met with no protest.)
Today's going slightly better. I hardly dare touch the computer for more than a few minutes at a time when Mark's home, though. The knives are gone, but he can still wreak havoc or do himself an injury if he shimmies onto the counters again. I'm feeling marginally better, but still thinking hard about going back to the doctor about the breast pains. I've been good about avoiding caffeine, damn it. I've even avoided soda for the most part. And I CRAVE soda. I've been drinking plenty of water, and keeping junk food to a minimum. The naproxen only dulls the pain, it doesn't eliminate it, and it certainly doesn't cure whatever the root cause is.
I really don't need this nonsense. I have more pressing needs, such as goofy kids and finding myself a dentist. Dav's boss is cracking down on taking time away from the office for personal needs, because some people were overdoing it, so getting him to watch the kids while I see a doctor or dentist needs to be carefully rationed. And I'm not terribly sanguine about getting real help on this issue anyway. :;grumph::
Well, I can't fix any of it right now. Jack's taking a nap, and Mark's not due back for an hour. So I'm going to finish the laundry, call the dentist, and maybe re-read some W Juliet and rant about the various fails hidden among the cute high school romance. (Barnes & Noble last weekend had volumes 2, 3, 19, and 23 of D.Greyman. I need volume 14. Fortunately, they had volume 5 - and only volume 5 - of Ooku, but I've read it cover to cover already. Thrice.)
Yesterday morning, I re-entered the living room to find Mark kneeling on the narrow rim of counter in front of the sink, arched over the sink, hands resting on the windowsill above the sink. ::massive face-palm:: He was also pantless and sockless, but this paled in comparison to the danger of climbing up there.
To make matters worse, there were no toys or other objects on the floor in front of the sink that might have assisted in his climb. No, he shimmied up there entirely by brute strength and agility of his own. ::massive face-palm::
Keep in mind, we store two knife blocks on the kitchen counter. Hidden in a back corner behind a wooden rack for jars of flour and rice etc., but that only prevents Acts of Zodling if said Zodling can only reach as far as tiptoes and possibly standing on a train engine can get him.
I freaked out. He was utterly confused as to why. I spanked him and hauled his butt up to his room, so I could calm down and figure out what to do about the knives. We'd already found that the cupboard shelves were too short to accommodate the longer knives at the top of the blocks. Ended up rearranging the contents of the pantry closet, which has shelves farther apart but is less conveniently located than the counter corner had been. It was either that or be afraid to use the bathroom when Dav isn't home, lest Mark do himself an injury.
>_<
Brought Jack down. He was excellently behaved all day. Brought Mark down a few minutes later. He had removed his pullup while I was rearranging things, and dancing about his bedroom merrily. ::sigh:: Clearly was unfazed by his punishment, or anything else.
The entire day went much like that. Mark removed his pants frequently, complained mightily about putting them back on. Removed couch cushions frequently, complained mightily about being expected to help Mommy even a little in replacing them. Kept shoving his cup into my hand but refusing to even say "juice" much less the accustomed "juice please" or his newly-learned "I want juice please". Same thing with triscuits. Had tantrums when I held my ground.
Even better, I was feeling fairly sick most of yesterday, so I was in no mood for shenanigans.
Ended up sticking Jack in his room for a couple hours, after Mark went to school, so I could nap. I felt bad about the idea, which was Dav's.... Until I caught Jack very very quietly sliding a dining room chair over to the fishtank and lifting the lid to splash at the poor fish.
He didn't mind going to his room at all. Mark would have pitched a fit, removed all his clothing, trashed his room, and had toilet training issues. Jack just tried using his Big Blue Eyes of WHYYYYYY Mommy, WHYYYYYY? as I left the room; then he played happily with his musical and talking toys until I came to get him. I could hear the Talking Buddy sneezing and saying "I smell meat!" over and over again. ^_^
Mark's behavior improved very little when he came home; he ended up getting an early bedtime.
Jack remained 99% good, with only short outbreaks of whining at being expected to taste the chili dogs we made for dinner. (The fries, of course, met with no protest.)
Today's going slightly better. I hardly dare touch the computer for more than a few minutes at a time when Mark's home, though. The knives are gone, but he can still wreak havoc or do himself an injury if he shimmies onto the counters again. I'm feeling marginally better, but still thinking hard about going back to the doctor about the breast pains. I've been good about avoiding caffeine, damn it. I've even avoided soda for the most part. And I CRAVE soda. I've been drinking plenty of water, and keeping junk food to a minimum. The naproxen only dulls the pain, it doesn't eliminate it, and it certainly doesn't cure whatever the root cause is.
I really don't need this nonsense. I have more pressing needs, such as goofy kids and finding myself a dentist. Dav's boss is cracking down on taking time away from the office for personal needs, because some people were overdoing it, so getting him to watch the kids while I see a doctor or dentist needs to be carefully rationed. And I'm not terribly sanguine about getting real help on this issue anyway. :;grumph::
Well, I can't fix any of it right now. Jack's taking a nap, and Mark's not due back for an hour. So I'm going to finish the laundry, call the dentist, and maybe re-read some W Juliet and rant about the various fails hidden among the cute high school romance. (Barnes & Noble last weekend had volumes 2, 3, 19, and 23 of D.Greyman. I need volume 14. Fortunately, they had volume 5 - and only volume 5 - of Ooku, but I've read it cover to cover already. Thrice.)
