He’s fourteen months, on his thirteenth tooth, eats like a horse, shits like a donkey and is destroying our home. He’s always up to mischief. We should have called him Denis, Denis The Bleeding Menace.
This week he discovered he could wiggle his arms from the carseat.
This week he took his (thankfully only wet) nappy off and put it on his head.
This week he ate a piece of Lego, a crayon, dog food, grass, chalk and stones from the beach.
This week he took a chunk out of his sisters finger. However, she was the fool for putting it in their.
This week he almost got his own finger stuck down the drain in the bath.
This week he tried to ride on the dog.
This week I have changed his clothes at least five times a day.
This week he broke and I mean BROKE one of the child safety locks clean off the kitchen cupboard.
This week he discovered the word ‘that’.
This week he dropped his afternoon nap. Kill me now… oh wait!
This week he tried to KILL me while driving on the bypass by launching a 4oz bottle at my head.
And this week he started walking.
Walking. More trouble ahead.
He has full advantage of our home to explore and I’m starting to regret not introducing a play-pen. We put a gate up on the playroom door yesterday, he just rattles it, screams and bangs his head off it until we open it. I’ve never been a fan of baby harnesses either but I picked one up in Dealz yesterday. Actually that’s a lie, I picked up two, you know just in case he chews through one.
Why are boys so mischieveous? Please tell me it’s not just my child. Kayla was a little angel compared. He understands the different tones and knows when I’m going to wag my finger at him but I’m a sucker for the lip and his big brown puppy eyes. How can you give out to a one year old, like really?
I’m thirty weeks pregnant tomorrow. So that’s ten weeks to teach him not to bite his sister, to stop trying to escape through the front door at ever knock and to stop trying to launch himself at everything.
Wish me luck!