S.O.S.

Topping the list of things that are making me crazy?
Hurricane's incessant training for his future as a mountain climber.
I once believed that the only safe way to baby proof a house, was to nail everything to the ceiling.
I take it back.
The only way to baby proof a house is to have it completely empty. And padded. Lots of padding.

Our home has become the World's Most Awesomest Jungle Gym According to Hurricane: Champion Climber, Toddler Division.

And our Ikea-clad living room is a veritable utopia for climbers.
The corner shelving unit, with it's layered levels, has become a favorite. I had to pry him off the 3rd shelf (halfway to the top!) this morning.
He climbs up on his train table and from there, can reach all the good stuff on my craft table. All those lovely things which seemed to be named 'no' as that is all he hears when tries to touch it.
I nearly had a heart attack the other day when I announced it was dinner time and my bottom-less pit little spawn happily pulled himself into a chair at the table.
"Highchairs? Pshaw! That's sooo for babies!"

And he has now mastered my bed. I watched in disbelief as he stepped onto the ledge at the bottom of my bed, pulled himself onto my nightstand and from there? The bed was cake.
I am waiting to one morning find him scampering along the ceiling. My Hurricane. My spiderman (minus Kirsten Dunst thank you very much). I will hand him a rag and finally, finally! be rid of those damn cobwebs I've yet to be able to reach with the broom.

Each day he surprises me with something new. The climbing, slowly starting to sleep better, the very strange habit of throwing my chapstick into my water glass.
I am almost afraid of what he will do next.
I am even more afraid of what his sister will teach him this summer.

I have little doubt that it won't be long before I am reduced to sending out desperate Morse code messages from the one place even my kids fear. The bath tub. Don't worry, as long as it's filled with vodka, I'll be ok.