Yesterday, at the park, I caught him as he fell off an eight-foot-high opening at the top of the slide. I was able to be in the right place at the right time for a few other falls, but obviously, I wasn’t fast enough every time. (It’s tough to monitor 2-year-olds on playground equipment, by the way. There are too many ways on and off, and your kid can be on the other side of the structure long before you can run around to catch them. You just have to hope they can dangle for a few seconds.)
Saturday morning, he darted into traffic in a mall parking lot. He was running for the fountain on the other side.
Saturday afternoon, he walked up to us, choking. And then he threw up a bunch of milk along with the little plastic stopper that regulates the flow on this bottle. I think he figured out how to unscrew the top.
I went upstairs to throw some clothes in the wash. It took three minutes. It was a gamble, I know, but Max was happily watching TV.
I came back downstairs, and Max’s hands and face were covered in a strange slimy and chalky residue. He had an economy-sized bottle of Tums next to him. I have know idea how many he ate, and I still haven’t found the top.
The antacids were high up in a cabinet above our junk drawer in the kitchen. But he moved a stool over to climb on and get to them.
That cabinet had several different types of cold medicine, acetaminophen, ibuprofen, various diaper-rash creams, and lots of old bottles of prescription pills that probably expired a long time ago. I’m glad he chose the Tums.
Anyway, all our medicine bottles are on lockdown now. And I know he planned to go back for more when he was finished with the Tums.
The picture above is a snapshot of his reaction when I took all the medicine, put it in a giant Tupperware container and moved it to another room. He threw a separate fit for each bottle that went into the container. And then a really big, really helpless-sounding one as I left the room.
A 5-year-old punched Max in the face at the park today — two minutes after this photo was taken. It was an accident, but Max has a big bruise and rashy skin above his eye.
It looks bad.
Later at the house, he wanted to walk the dog. So he grabbed her leash, and she took off in a full sprint. Max didn’t let go right away, so he face-planted and was dragged a bit down the driveway. Now he has cuts and bruises on his nose and some other random scratches on his face.
And he still has a nasty bruise on his chin that happened some time last week when I wasn’t even around. So he looks pretty roughed up today.
He goes to day care tomorrow, which could be awkward for me. Because if the day-care people ask him, he’ll say, “he hit me” and, “I fell.”
There’s a pretty good chance he’ll bang himself up throughout the day, and he’ll have more cuts and bruises. And that will make the day-care people feel awkward.
It’s just Max.
I won’t judge the day-care people if the day-care people don’t judge me.