A thump in the night

I remember being slightly terrified when Addison figured out how to breach her crib. I had visions of her wandering at night, falling down the stairs and breaking something.

For the most part her wandering hasn't been a problem. Sure there have been plenty of post midnight visits to our room. There have been multitudes of times that we have had to walk her back down the hallway, blurry with our own sleep.
When we have company she occasionally comes downstairs for fear of missing out on some big event. And, in the last several weeks, almost every night there is something pressingly urgent she has to tell us.

Usually she'll call out to one of us and then say "Um. I gotta tell you a question".
We exchange a look, suppress our smiles and indulge her one question. Most likely it's a very important question like Why you eating a Popsicle? or Why Mrs. _________'s light on? or Why we didn't go to Meijer today?.
After a quick response we firmly tell her to go back to bed and remind her that she is big girl and big girls stay in bed.

Last night was one of those endless not-going-to-bed nights. She came down to tell me a question at least three times. On her last trip down both her father and I informed that it was time for bed and to not even think about coming down again. She huffed, stomped a foot and headed back up to bed.

About an hour later Andy heard a dull thump and Addie was standing in the kitchen crying for me and looking confused. Andy walked her back up to bed where she promptly started snoring.

She didn't exactly fall down the stairs, as I had been afraid of in the early days. Instead, it turns out she had fallen asleep on our bottom stair, quite obviously ignoring our firm request that she go to bed and be a big girl.
And then she must've rolled over - thus the dull thump.

Guess I was right to worry all along.

Cry

It was a little cool this morning so I, foolishly, thought I should run to the basement and grab Addie a pair of socks before dropping her off at the neighbor's so I could do what I had to do.

I, foolishly, thought I could leave her unattended for 37 seconds.

What I did not think about was the lip gloss compact that I had left on the kitchen table.

I know, like I even ever take the time to smear lip gloss on. Geeze.

And don't you even be fooled by those tears...this is drama perfected.

And yes, it's 1:15 p.m. And yes, I am sipping a glass of white wine.

And no, you may not judge me. It's just been that kind of day.

Makeover

So rumor has it that the terrible twos don't wait until two years old to start, but can start anytime after a kid's first birthday.
By no means do I think that Addison is 100 percent immersed in the terrible twos...but she may be dipping her toe in the pool. It used to be that when I would take something away from her that she shouldn't be playing with, say a pair of scissors or a cork screw, she would shrug and move on to another toy. These days she much prefers to throw herself down on the floor, crying and spitting, to kick her legs and flail her arms. It is quite the lovely sight. This happens most often in my bathroom.
Andy and I are relatively bad parents, and we have never gotten around to "baby proofing" the cabinets and drawers that hold such lovely thing as Benadryl, Sudafed, Advil, Tums, eyeliner, eyeshadow, Listerine, Q-tips...You know, all the good stuff. I try to shower while Addison is napping, but that is often a failure, as she tends to wake up right before I head up make myself smell pretty. I usually end up bringing her into the master suite with me, armed with toys and books and hoping (fruitlessly) that she might stay in our bedroom and entertain herself for the five minutes it takes me to scrub up.
Inevitably she pushes into the bathroom and bee lines to her favorite play zone ~ our cabinets. This always inspires me to scrub faster, but by the time I get a towel wrapped around me she has found a treasure chest of drawers.
Yesterday I found her with brown eyeliner across one cheek and concealer streaked across her forehead. Three days ago she had pink socks from opening up some eyeshadow, dropping it on the floor and then dancing in the crumbs. Today she found our stash of extra toothbrushes and was diligently attending to her oral hygiene. There is always an army of pill bottles lined up on the tub's edge, and I often find our brush in the closet.
Today after being repeatedly told no and redirected to the bedroom she melted down. She laid on our floor screaming and blubbering and pounding her fists...During this tantrum all I could think about was how nice the shade of green eyeshadow she had dusted across her face made her eyes look.
With that said...I think I am going to go try to baby proof the bathroom. It will save my sanity and her skin.