Well, the blissful moments of having a baby that stayed where I put him is now a distant fading memory. We returned from the playground with the front on my shirt covered in blood from wiping Sebastian’s bloody mouth–a result of trying to climb with a stick in his mouth. The summer Kid’s Stop teacher was standing next to me watching on a bit dismayed that I was using my shirt and offered the bathroom inside, but the injury didn’t seem quite severe enough to make it worth rounding everyone up. He recovered quickly enough and was soon back to happily tasting the sand, the rocks, and the old cigarette butt he found in the sand. (Of course I had to use the same shirt to wipe the sand from his mouth.) I finally resigned to just holding him until we moved over to the rubber surfaced play area.
Today was only one of many escapades. I have found him standing on the twin’s guitar chairs attempting to jump up and down in the chair. He doesn’t attempt to jump when he has both feet on the floor. Perhaps it is the higher altitude that inspires this behavior. The other day the older boys and I were playing Trouble on the kitchen table. There was a guitar chair nearby and before I knew it, Sebastian was standing on top of the table reaching for the game pieces. I placed him back on the floor and he immediately crawled around the table, back to the guitar chair, and proceeded to climb in seconds from the chair to the bench to the table top. We repeated this event several times before I finally moved the guitar chair and pushed the bench under the table and carried him to the other side of the room where he again located the guitar chair and climbed up and attempted to stand on the back of the chair. I don’t really mind the climbing except, as the saying goes, “What goes up must come down,” and he hasn’t yet learned to do the latter part gracefully yet and tends to go head first.