As I was walking through the house last night straightening up, I found a cookie sheet on the floor of the “formal” living room (it’s really only “formal” in the sense that it’s one of those rooms where we never spend any time – I think I’m only ever in there when I vacuum it).
I asked myself, “Why is there a cookie sheet in my living room?” though I immediately knew the answer. Noah likes to play in the drawer under the oven, where I store the cookie sheets, pizza pan, etc. He likes to pull everything out (making LOTS of noise in the process) and then he climbs in the drawer. Sometimes he puts everything back, but that part of this game doesn’t really happen that often. I’m guessing that he was playing in the drawer when he was home with Christian yesterday. While Christian was putting things back in the drawer, Noah took off with a cookie sheet and decided to throw it over the baby gate and into the living room.
The question, “Why is there a cookie sheet in my living room?” made me realize that I ask myself lots of strange questions lately. I know the answers to some of them, but others still have me baffled:
What is it about soap that makes my son cry? Noah loves taking a bath until you start to wash him. Then he starts screaming. Superman has kryptonite. Noah has Johnson’s Baby Wash.
What is it about the dogs’ water bowl that is so attractive to Zoe, and how does she get to it so quickly? I only turned my head for a second!
What is it about nap time that makes Noah poop? He’s had the rest of the day to do it, but he waits until 10 minutes after we’ve put him down. Then he starts talking. Knowing this means he has pooped, we get him out of the crib, change his diaper, and put him back in the crib. Then he gets mad about being back in the crib. He cries, and this wakes up Zoe. We’ve tried “waiting for the poop” before putting him down for his nap, but it just doesn’t seem to work.
How do these beautiful little children produce such stinky poop? Especially Zoe. Man, that stuff is rank! And, how can so much of it come out of such little bodies?
How is it that they can make so much noise in their cribs? We don’t put toys in their cribs, just a blanket and a couple of stuffed animals (now that they are older of course – we didn’t use to put anything in there). Noah sometimes uses his pacifier to bang on the crib slats, like a prisoner clanging a cup against the bars of his cell. Zoe just stands up and shakes the crib rails. Christian put her down for a nap yesterday and said it was like listening to a Tasmanian devil on the baby monitor for half an hour.
Why does Noah like rocks so much? Why does he think they taste good? How did he manage to put souvenir rocks in my purse without me noticing?
Why does Zoe insist on blowing raspberries and chewing on her hands and bib when we try to feed her? Is she really the hardest baby in the world to feed like I believe she is? Where did she get such an attitude? When she is done with her bottle, she is DONE. She lets you know. She spits it out, squeals, and tries to squirm out of my arms.
Who taught Noah the “jelly baby” move? When he gets mad, he throws himself on the floor and turns into 32 pounds of “jelly baby” dead weight, making it impossible to pick him up.
Will Zoe ever be happy sitting again? Now that she has crawling and standing mastered, she wants to be doing one of those things all of the time. We never had to buckle Noah in his chair or in shopping carts. He always just sat there nicely. Not so with our Little Miss. At Target the other night she was standing up in the seat of the cart, facing the wrong direction, before I knew what had happened. For high chairs, we use the hook-on type chairs at our kitchen island. A couple of days ago she managed to get out of the chair (with it buckled!) and climb up on the counter. How did she get so quick? I am talking fractions of a second here, people.
How does Noah know to smile for the camera? What a ham!
Why do they chew on shopping carts? Are they trying to determine the effectiveness of their vaccinations? Do they want to catch something? Or, are they just purposely trying to gross me out? (if that’s what they are doing, it is certainly working!)
I know I have many, many more strange questions about my children, but that’s all I can think of right now. Children make my brain hurt sometimes.