That's what my PJ is.
On Wednesday, at the sitter's house, Trouble decided to climb up on a chair, climb up onto the dog food container, stand on his tippy toes, and press all the buttons on her home alarm.
Thereby setting it off.
Thereby causing the police to come.
And thereby telling my sitter if it happens again there's a fine.
Trouble.
We took the step stool away so he can stop getting in the PNP when Maggie is in there, because although he's a good big brother, he can't quite realize that landing on her is NOT a good idea.
No step stool? That's okay mommy. I'll use this:
I'll just stand on the lion's head and get in THAT way. And when you take that away, I'll just try to swing my leg over the side. Even though I'm not tall enough, and will inevitably get stuck and hurt myself.
Last night Trouble spent a good 25 minutes simply running around the house screaming and giggling. For no real reason. Around the lion. Around the chair. In his room, in the kitchen, around the dog, into my arms for a hug, etc.
Of course it took me 30 minutes to get him to sleep because of this.
Trouble.
Then, around 530 when husband gets up, he cried. I went and grabbed him and laid him in bed with me. He molded his body against me and grabbed my hand to put around him. We laid there, him perfectly fitting in the curve of my body, as he fell back asleep.
This. This is why I am a mother. This is why no matter how little sleep I get, how much trouble he may cause, no matter how little he eats, THIS is what I will always treasure. Because it won't be like this for long.
