I remember writing a post on the day you turned 18 months old that included the following advice for my fellow baby mamas:
Silence is your enemy. If your toddler is in another room and making no noise, it's because she's busy inspecting Dad's drill, licking your deodorant, or stirring the toilet with your good spatula.
I was reminded of this today when your dad disappeared down into the basement without a sound. I was busy playing balloon football with you, and making a chicken casserole, and I completely forgot the man existed. As with babies, silence can often be problematic with your dad, because he's been known to get a wild hair and embark on a crazy project. After dinner tonight, he said, "Laney, why don't you come downstairs and I'll show you this thing I built."
As it turns out, he had mounted a piece of plywood to the ceiling, bolted rock-climbing holds to it, and basically made you a climbing wall.
I didn't watch at first. My policy is that there should be at least one parent who can tell Child Protective Services that they weren't involved in the activity in question. When you first went down there, you didn't have on any pants, and you attacked the wall with such gusto that you started scraping your knees. Your dad brought you back upstairs just long enough to get some pajama pants on before allowing you to continue your career as an alpinist; the whole time we were wrestling the pants on you, you were screaming, "I GOT TO GO TO CLIMB! I GOT TO GO TO CLIMB!"
If you ever wonder why I'm tired all the time, it's because everyone I live with requires constant supervision.
Love,
Mom
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