Through the eyes of our kids, everything in the house is a mountain to be climbed. The chairs. The tables. The sofa. My flat ass. I don't know why the kids would want to climb my flat ass because it really isn't anything to be conquered -- which by the way was my mantra in prison.You can turn your head away just for a minute, and one of the kids might be four feet off the ground dangling from the edge of my beloved television screen. A few days ago, Lisa was in the kitchen cooking dinner for the kids. Emma and Andrew were on the floor playing with some toys. A few moment later, Lisa turned her head and Andrew was sitting in his high chair and Emma had both feet on the edge of the high chair trying to get in. The two big questions about this are: 1) How did the kids climb into their high chairs so fast, and 2) when did Lisa learn to cook in the kitchen?
I wonder what the fascination is with kids wanting to climb all over the place? Could it be our innate curiosity about things? Or could it be our human desire to strive for things beyond our reach? Or maybe it's simply that kids can be bastards and know how to annoy the hell out of their parents?
Beyond driving stakes into the middle of the living room and attaching Emma and Andrew to them with baby leashes, there really isn't too much for us to do to curb this natural behavior. It will probably get worse before it gets better. If they are climbing terrors at 2 1/2 feet tall, imagine the chaos they will create at thirty-six inches (There's a really bad joke about 36 inches, but I'll leave it at that...). Crazy Grandma and Lazy Grandpa probably have the best take on this developing behavior which is to let the kids explore, be curious, and be careful out there. I think that's very similar to what that police officer said at the beginning of every "Hill Street Blues", yet a cop always got shot. Should I still be comforted?
1 comment:
Where are you? Your fans are missing your posts.
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