Climbing out of crib
I'm not sure that this needs much of an explanation. After twenty-five months of blissful sleep in his sweet, luxurious crib, he can just pop right out in twenty seconds flat. I'm now debating if I should go for the crib tent and lock the "baby" in or if I should just go hog wild and put him in the bed. [This photo was taken exactly one week before he learned this new trick. Such a sweet sleeping angel here.]
Cookie's closet is literally busting at the seams with boutique and handmade smocked and appliqued john johns. Instead he insists on wearing "jeans wif pockets" and "gorga tech" jersey (thanks, N) on the days when he will actually take off his monkey pjs. Please feast your eyes on this photo of the "baby" in Target to see just how tragic this issue has become. I am shuddering at the thought of actually admitting this hoodlum is mine. [Please note that the blue mittens you see in this photo were FOUND somewhere in Target. They were totally ratty and complete with dirt stains. I immediately extracted them from his hands after this photo.]
If I had been blessed by the grace of God with a beautiful head of blonde hair, I certainly wouldn't be covering it up with a hat. And said hat also hides his to-die-for baby blues. This has become a serious problem around here. Not to mention that he usually wears the hat backwards. [Please note the sweat band on his right leg. One of my children has this dang thing on at ALL times. It was Honey's back in his baseball playing days. Strange kids....]
This child loooooves him some products. Lotions, toothpaste, lipstick... you name it and Cookie loves to apply it. I must insist that Honey puts a lock on my bathroom drawers, as having to fight my two year old to use my buxom lips is getting old. [This image shows Cookie just after he applied said buxom lips to his right eye.]
Cookie is still known as the "best baby in the class" at school, where he tee-tees on the potty and gives kisses to his teachers all day long. At home he helps himself to the potty whenever the whim may strike. Unfortunately, this whim usually strikes right after he has already had a poopie in his diaper. In these cases (and there have been a few), he sneaks upstairs, removes his stinky diaper by himself, deposits it in a location of his choosing, and then climbs up on the potty and tries to wipe. I will not torment you with the details of the state that this leaves my child, my potty and my home, or with a photo documenting the damage.
With all that said, rest assured that I love my little Cookie and all his little quirks to the moon and back and again. In my advanced age and with my flailing memory, I evidently forgot just how challenging two year olds can be. And I certainly never saw it coming from the best baby in the world :-) [I'll leave you with a sweet picture of Cookie. It's actually the only recent picture I have of him without a hat, mask, marker, makeup or food on his face.]