I haven’t yet fully lifted myself from the Depths of Doom (i.e. Horribly Indulgent Self-Pitying Stage), so think it is best to steer clear of writing openly about my emotions. But keeping going with this blog is something I get a huge sense of satisfaction and enjoyment from, so instead I will entertain you (hopefully) with some of Sam’s recent morning mischievousness.
He seems particularly cheeky early on in the day – perhaps because I am most definitely NOT a morning person, and will overlook most roguish deeds that occur before 9 o’clock. Generally I am pretty firm with my discipline; if something is ‘No’ one day, it will remain a ‘No’ forever. But Sam has caught on to the fact that he has 2-3 hours each morning in which rules are discarded and any tricks he pulls will either be ignored or laughed at; as Morning Me is content to leave any consequent clearing up to the post 9am version of me.
Here is what happened yesterday morning:
He is NOT allowed to stand on that book box, nor have I previously encouraged him to empty out all the books and toys onto the floor. But in this case I couldn’t really tell him off: I had been slumped on the sofa with my eyes closed. Instead he was rewarded with a little chuckle – you can’t fault his imagination in finding a way to rouse his stubbornly lazy mother to action.
This next photo was taken a few days ago. I don’t have a shower, and the hose attachment on the bath doesn’t work because of rubbish water pressure; so I have to wash my hair in the sink. Sometimes Sam ‘helps’. Except when we are in a rush, I love it when he does this; especially as there is always a big build-up – him huffing and puffing whilst positioning his stool in the perfect position and repeating ‘help Mummy, help Mummy’ (this is a shortened version of ‘I am going to help Mummy’, whereas ‘Mummy help, Mummy help’ is what he says when he needs help from me). His ‘help’ always results in a lot of water on the floor…and in this case it also ended with a very wet little boy. ‘Bit wet Mummy, bit wet Mummy’ is not something you can adequately deal with when you’ve got a very soapy head upside down in a sink full of water. So my response was to take off his pyjama top and mollify him with ‘if you’re cold you’ll just have to put some clothes on yourself’ (a very unkind, heartless thing to say to a toddler who can barely put on wellies, and who would find any other garments impossible). But this is how I found him when my hair was finally in a towel turban:
He had gone to his wardrobe; pulled out a box of old summer clothes; and followed my instructions. I said to put clothes on if he was cold – he did. Ingenious.
These next photos depict a new habit he has picked up recently. As soon as I announce it’s time to get dressed/brush teeth/go out, he runs away and hides (giggling loudly all the while). Extremely cute, though it invariably makes us at least half an hour late to wherever we were meant to be because I am unable to resist the temptation of playing a full-blown game of hide-and-seek (Toddler Edition).
Let it be noted that the hiding places are usually storage places for several other things that have to be turfed out to provide a Sam sanctuary. The white cupboard usually holds ALL the pots and pans I own.
But the ultimate example of Sam’s morning mischief came after I had been bemoaning the fact I hadn’t had a lie-in for two years. A friend suggested I should just let him play in my room for a bit while I went back to bed…and for a wonderful but short time I believed this may be the answer. As I have confessed before; I am not one who is readily able to face up to reality.
It did SEEM to be working fine; I was enjoying a bit of a snooze whilst still being vaguely aware of what Sam was doing. Eventually he got bored of emptying out my drawers and came to demand the attention he is rightly used to. I, however, was too warm and relaxed to respond immediately and kept my eyes tightly shut. I opened them the moment he started to draw on me…but after seeing his drawing implement was a clear lip balm, I drifted back into the land of feigned sleep. Sadly all good things must come to an end, and when I opened my eyes a second time I was greeted by a very different smile than the one I am accustomed to.
This photo was taken the exact moment he glimpsed himself in the mirror:
It is my birthday today. Needless to say I did not take the risk of a lie-in.