Now Charlie has hit that stage where he requires constant supervision, and trying to get one simple task done while he is awake is next to impossible.
He actually hit that stage several months ago, but he seems to be taking it up a notch to new and much more dangerous levels. It doesn't help that our main floor is divided into small individualized areas so the second he walks from one room to the next in our house, he is out of eyesight. Keeping a constant eye on him would mean never being able to do any project that would require me to be in the same room for more than 35 seconds - that rules out quite a bit, believe it or not.
I think if Seth and I both did absolutely nothing other than follow him around all day, we might be able to keep up with him. One would have to take charge of cleaning up his messes while the other would prevent him from maiming himself.
I made the mistake of trying to read a chapter out of a book I'm supposed to read for work before he went to bed because I knew I would be too tired by the time he went to sleep (did I mention he needs much less sleep than your average 1 1/2 year old?) He was playing quietly on the floor looking at books, until Elena came down to get a drink. He followed her into the kitchen and pretty soon, I heard a crash and then Elena yelling for help and Charlie crying.
One of the kids must have left the bathroom door open after brushing their teeth so Charlie wandered in there. Normally he just puts toilet paper into the toilet and then takes it out and drags it all over the place. Tonight he must have tried to get at something in the drawer of the cabinet and he pulled the whole thing over on himself, wedging his arm between the toilet seat and the fallen cabinet. The only good thing about his arm being stuck was that he wasn't able to walk across all the shattered glass from the vase he had knocked onto the floor. I was also glad to see that no bones were broken. He was smiling again within about 30 seconds and onto his next adventure. We do our best, but child-proofing can only go so far when you have a kid who has figured out how to open doors and move chairs around the house to reach all the things we try to keep "out of reach."
He's lucky he's so incredibly cute. It makes things like trying to get kefir out of the air ducts and cleaning an entire bowl of tomato soup (followed by a glass of orange juice) out of the carpet more bearable. Along with taping pages back together in a good number of our books. And washing about 25 CDs that he managed to get a hold of and wedged under our dining room carpet, which is much dustier underneath than I'd realized; a few had been scratched beyond repair after being stepped on. I'd include spending an hour scrubbing nail polish out of the carpet, but I can't take credit for that - that was my mom to the rescue (and she successfully got rid of almost an entire bottle of neon yellow polish, I might add).
Here are some samples of his recent handiwork in the bathroom:
My best time to get stuff done is during Charlie's "performance" time. This happens about once a day. He grabs two spatulas and bangs on his kitchen set (or some pots and pans) while singing at the top of his lungs for anywhere from 5-20 minutes. His favorites are the ABCs and "Let It Go." The noise doesn't even phase me anymore - I'm just happy that he's in one place and happy.
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