Today was JK's class registration and orientation at Temple, and he had to get up early (it was still dark!) to get ready to leave by 7:00 am. I fully recognize that I am quite possibly the most spoiled Stay at Home Mom on the planet, having a husband who works from home. Even though he is working during the day, we do get to have our morning coffee and lunch breaks together, which goes a long way towards helping me to maintain my sanity.
In anticipation of JK being out of the house more often than we're used to, Monica and I decided we'd try to kick off the semester in our own way, by being super productive around the house. We came downstairs and I put on an episode of Blues Clues so I could quickly run the vacuum in the dining room. As I was finishing up, I peeked around the corner to find that Monica was sitting on the couch watching her show. I did not put her there!
She laughed at me because she knew she wasn't supposed to be up there. I went in and put her down in the middle of the room, and then turned to go put the vacuum away in the hall closet. In two seconds flat, before I could even get out of the room, I watched her run over to the ottoman barricade, climb one of the little ottomans, and get right back into position on the couch - in her daddy's spot, with daddy's computer mouse and the TV remote.
This was no fluke, as I got her on video on the third attempt after I removed her the second time:
Sooo....I put the vacuum away and proceded to pack up the little ottomans into the big ottoman. She made an attempt to climb back onto the couch without using them for a boost, but was unsuccessful. I breathed a huge sigh of relief, and we headed off to the kitchen for breakfast.
I brought her back into the living room after breakfast, and then I ran back to the kitchen to put the yogurt into the fridge. When I came back, she was on the couch. Again. Yep. She can climb up onto the couch from the floor.
I was stumped. I couldn't leave the room because she wouldn't stay off the couch. Normally JK is on the couch, working, and would be there to deter her, if necessary. But with just her and I, well...I couldn't let her out of my sight. As I slumped on the couch and tried to figure out how to tackle this problem, she was playing with her toys. I was thankful that she was at least staying at floor level while I was right there in the room.
The logistics of her being able to get onto the couch are a nightmare. For one, she has no awareness of the danger of falling off of the couch, and will blissfully run from one end to the other, stumbling on pillows and falling all over the place. There is absolutely no way that she can be left alone on the couch for even the shortest period of time without the chance of her seriously hurting herself. Second, the ends of the couch are part of their own barricade to keep her from the end tables where we keep all manner of dangerous/expensive/breakable items. Even if she could be left on the couch safely, the couch gives her access to things like laptops and lamps and plants. Was I going to have to rearrange the entire living room?
As I was mulling all of this over, I glanced over and saw this:
The Grubster was helping herself to some Party Mix.
When we get done with all the "good" stuff in the Party Mix (i.e. Cheetos), and all that is left is a handful of lame pretzels and BBQ corn chip crumbs, we usually give the container to Monica. The little bit of leftover snacks makes a fun noise when she rolls it around, and the container itself makes a great drum. I have no idea what prompted her to attempt - and succeed - at removing the lid this morning, but she was having herself a fine snack.
Sick of the suddenly-not-baby-proofed-at-all living room, I took her upstairs to give myself a break. We made a pit stop to wash the cheesy crumbs and stains off her face and fingers, and then I let her go about her business.
We were playing in her room and I was sitting in the glider while Monica was "doing laundry," which involves running amok while carrying various items of clothing from room to room. And then this happened:
She decided to climb right over the glider ottoman that we keep wedged between the dresser and the rocker to barricade her from the outlet behind it.
Still in disbelief from the morning's downstairs antics, I got to work on moving the dresser. This entailed removing half the drawers so it would be light enough to move, and dragging the dresser in front of the outlet, all while trying to keep an excited frenzied Monica from completely destroying the nicely folded contents of the drawers that were temporarily on the floor. I finished the heavy lifting and shooed her away as I worked on putting the drawers back into the dresser. While I wasn't sold on the new location of the dresser, it would work until JK got home to help with a more permanent relocation.
She had gone running out of the room, so I followed to see what she was up to. I found her in the bathroom, crouched behind the toilet, examining the toilet's plumbing connections. With her mouth. For obvious reasons, there is no picture of this disgusting incident.
A glance at the clock showed that it was 11am. I have never been so happy to declare nap time, and I have never been so grateful as when she went right to sleep without a fuss.
Surprisingly, the remainder of the day was fairly tame, with only one more unexpected kamikaze move when she tried to throw herself into the bathtub. JK couldn't believe that he missed so much activity in only three short hours of time. I still have no idea what we're going to do about the couch situation, but at least JK will be home tomorrow to help me figure it out! Maybe while she's asleep she'll forget about all the crazy new tricks she learned today?
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