Day 1

I always used to wonder what a mom did all day who didn’t work outside the home. “There couldn’t possibly be enough to do at home all day to keep busy,” I dared to think. Well, I found out. She dreams of having a nanny and housekeeper even a leash or a kennel  all…day…long and counts the days until kindergarten. Oh, and thank my lucky stars for all…day…kindergarten. I would move mountains just to get all…day…kindergarten. When she’s not thinking these things, she’s scouring the house, while dishes drop, baby climbs, and baby slathers food on self, couch, and anything else within a mile radius, to find the chocolate she hid from the bloodhound sniffing kids. I mean can a 1-year old really plot, “maybe if I’m this mischievous now, mom won’t care what the heck I do when I’m a teenager" because at least by then I will be able to wipe my own butt? 

I decided one day to document Asa’s,well, I’ll call them “adventures.”  Afterall, I couldn’t possibly do anything else anyway. There is no mountain high enough in a 8-foot ceilinged house to keep anything safe. And the higher I put things only entices him to clamber higher therefore increasing the possible magnitude of injury as well. So I tried not to clean up anything on this documentary day except maybe a poopy diaper and only after I couldn’t tolerate the dizziness it was inducing anymore.


And the only reason I'm able to blog about this now is that I'm letting him play with my point and shoot camera. He can drop it. He can even drop it in water. It will be fine. BUT if he figures out how to change the settings on it? Well, I'm up a creek. At least I'll be up a creek with one more project checked off the list--this!

The day begins, and he thinks muffins are the
breakfast of champions.

 He thinks the table leaves look better up apparently because I can't keep them down. Perhaps he enjoys hitting his head on them as he walks by.

Nothing is safe.

 Computers, TV, remotes forget about them.

Trying to type on or look at computer? Nope. Not happepopokpl 9 (see?) Not happening.

Rug? Oh I think this is more fun as a tripping hazard and door blocker.

 

Shoes should be where I can see and find them, duh, Mom!

 I’ve lured you into thinking your tree was safe after I broke that first ornament within minutes of decorating the tree just so I could play with them now.

OOoooh! The Christmas tree! Oh and an electrical outlet. I’ll plug the Christmas tree lights in. Electrocution sounds fun. I haven’t tried that yet. (No, I did not get a picture of this one nor was I going to re-enact it.)

Yes, I've been in my PJ's all day. Cleaning out Mom's cupboards is hard work.
I'm sure I'll need a nap when I'm done. Hehehe.

A bucket of cookies cutters. Can't wait to hear Mom swear when she steps on one of these!

No, you should not wipe your poopy bottom with the felt Santa ornament. I think that could earn you a permanent place on the naughty list.

The nearly desecrated Santa. 

Hard ball in the house. Where did you find that? Who bleepity bleep knows!?

This is actually a pretty clean meal but I'm still cheesin' it up for the camera.

Chairs are for sitting? Right, Mom, only if there’s a seatbelt involved. (insert even laugh because you know he’s thinking it.)

Sweet relief for one of us anyway.

 

Fire hazards be da#$*!! Everyone needs a chair at the front door!

This looks interesting. I've never gotten up
here before. (Lighter)

I think 70 degrees inside is just too warm.

 

Knives? Sure I like knives.

Hand sanitizer squirted in sink. Yes, thank you. The sink did need sterilized.

Yea! Look at how smart I am. I can call Daddy and neighbors on mommy’s phone. Thanks, I really felt like talking to a neighbor I just barely met.

Food processor part under couch. 

You never know when you might want 

to slice carrots or shred zucchini in the living room.

He’s asleep!! I must go NOW to exercise because this opportunity may not present itself for like another 76 years like Haley’s comet. OK, that lasted 10 minutes, and no, you cannot sit on my back while I do pushups. I am not that strong and you are quickly breaking my will.

Nap time? No, thank you. I'd rather spend the next 2 hours with you, Momma. Thanks but no thanks, buddy.
He won't sleep but he will cuddle. 1 redemption point.

Don’t want grapes for dinner? No problem just chuck them across the room. Wait. Mom and Dad don’t like that so I’ll just chew them up and spit them out on the floor instead.

Browsing, eating, and sitting--that's what refrigerators are for.

I learned how to open these doors today.
No hiding candy or breakable items in here any longer, Mom!

Don't we all need a high chair in the
living room?

Pee in peace? Yeah, right, Mom there is no “pee” in Peace. HOLD ME while you use the toilet. No picture of this one for, well, I was more concerned with the well-being of my camera than my modesty. I’ve had 5 kids, people.

I feel like going outside when I want to go outside. I’m too smart for locks now. Those are child’s play.

I put my saliva on their toothbrushes everyday and they
don't even know it! They're idiots! Muhahah!

Shopping day? No, thankfully. Asa likes to crawl from shopping cart basket to child's seat and back again and again squishing food in the process. Let him out to follow instead? Nope. No fear of losing his Momma either.

Cookies, chocolate, treats--Yes, I will take one million of those.

Take a close look. This is what my
kitchen looked like before dinner time
compliments of Asa.

Ella or anyone for that matter cannot do homework in the presence of Asa. Otherwise he scribbles and tears and sits on their work.

Nothing is safe--even sister's chapstick.

Still not high enough Mom, and if you go one shelf
higher, I'll try to climb there too!!

Picking the toppings off the pizza and then returning them? Why not. We’ll bake it at 400 degrees and kill the germs right? Besides we’re not having guests so it’s just family germs anyway. YUM!

 Just seeing what's clean so I can throw it on the dirty floor, Mom!

Exercising on the floor? Beware of flying objects particularly a 20+ pound baby heading straight for the gut.

Look who learned how to turn the kitchen sink water on AND use the squirter. As if getting me wet during his baths just isn’t enough for him.

Mommy's gotta love me if I pray, right?
Another redemption point

You may buckle him in but that doesn't mean he has to stay at the table. What a turkey!

This really was therapeutic for me. I found myself laughing and shaking my head more than being angry because really I must throw my hands up in the air and surrender to a 1-year old. It’s a lot easier than the alternative. I hope it makes you feel better too.