The Do-it-Yourselfer

My two year old has decided that he is now capable of doing things all by himself.

A couple weeks ago, he finally figured out how to open his bedroom door, and now he opens every door in the house that isn’t locked. I have no privacy! At six in the morning, he’ll barge into our bedroom and demand milk. If I’m in the bathroom or changing, he’ll barge right in because he can’t find me. I could lock the doors, I guess, but I always seem to forget. And sometimes it just not safe. I’ll just have to teach him the good old fashion way--tell him to get out.

A couple of days ago, he saw Daddy getting a boiled egg from the fridge, peeling it, and eating it before heading out. Blake figured he could do that too, so he went to the fridge, got himself an egg, went to our front window where he saw Daddy drive off, and cracked the egg all over the window. Ooh, fun! So he smeared it all over until he remembered that he was hungry. Back to the fridge for another egg. Nope, that one wasn’t boiled either. Or the next. Or the next. He was about to start on his second carton of eggs when Bailey ran in and told me what he was up to. Busted! I had him help me clean it up. Ewe. Not fun.

Then, this morning, he decided not to wake us up but to feed himself. He got out the bread, got out the spreadable margarine, and, using a butter knife, made himself some buttered bread. When Daddy got up, he found Blake with a heavily buttered piece of bread in one hand, a butter knife in his other, butter all over his pajamas, butter on the floor, the tub of butter in front of him, and a huge, satisfied grin on his face. Daddy got to clean it up this time.

It’s not all bad though. Blake has also started to put his dishes in the sink when he’s done with them. He’ll throw away his apple cores and other leftovers. And he can put on his snow boots himself (too bad winter is almost over).

My big little boy. Sniff, sniff. He’s all grown up.