The Family Bed

Max is sleeping in the other room. He's surrounded by his stuffed animals. He still sleeps like a little stink bug, on his stomach, with his knees tucked under him and his little butt up in the air. Before he fell asleep, he was staring at the ceiling, chattering away, having the kind of conversation that toddlers have with themselves, sounding quite serious. He looked over at me before nodding out and smiled, then closed his eyes. I'm satisfied knowing that Max's experience of bedtime is secure, with me at his side. I've never regretted the decision for him to share our bed. I've always felt that it was the right thing for us to do.

All This...and That's Just Monday

My max likes to climb on other people's furniture. He likes to climb on my furniture too. He spits his food out if he doesn't like it. He squeezes the juice out of his juice box, onto the floor. He pokes, prods, pushes and pulls at other children. He screams as loud as he can because he likes the sound. He pulls my hair and hits me in the face. He jumps on the bed. He dumps the dog's food and water onto the floor. He turns all the televisions in the house on at the same time. He pulls his diaper off and gets poop on the carpet. He turns the hot water faucet on, in the tub. He dumps his breakfast onto the floor. He empties the contents of drawers out. He squeezes lotion and shampoo onto the carpet. He smears handprints all over the closet-door mirror. He leaves toys all over the house. He bangs on the piano keys with all kinds of objects. He hits the dog on the head with his maracca. He pushes the buttons on the televisions until there is no picture and way too much sound. He has tantrums when he can't have his way, sometimes. He arches his back and kicks when I pick him up to change his diaper. He splashes all the bath water onto the carpet. All this...and that's just Monday.