We are one week and two days away from Davey’s nine month birthday and needless to say trouble is finding him at every corner. 

Davey has been crawling for almost two months now.  He stands on his own, without assistance and without holding onto anything and he’s even managed to take a solo step before falling. 

He walks quickly when holding onto the furniture or even my hands.   He’s eager to get to where he’s going and to get there quickly.   Of course, at times he takes the occasional detour. 

For example, he loves the dog’s water bowl.  If I neglect to close the door to the laundry room, Dixie’s food and water haven, then Davey is in there faster than I can blink my eyes.   He’s pulled himself up to the bowl, which sits on a stand and is splashing around, leaving water stains on my wall and droplets on my floor.  

Other times, I’ve found that he loves to “help” me with the laundry.   As soon as I have the basket sitting in front of me, the little Tasmanian Devil, aka my son, is right alongside me pulling clothes out of the basket.   Naturally, he’s not pulling the clothes out to hand them to me.  Instead they’re tossed behind him, out of my reach.   I can’t get upset with him especially when I hear his giggle and see him laugh with a tongue hanging out of his mouth.   His excitement with the laundry even goes to the point of when the clothes are folded and placed in the basket awaiting their ride upstairs.   If I’m not watching him, Davey quickly unfolds the clothes faster than I can say the word “NO”!  

But nothing can really top the mischief he got into last week, and it was in a place that I purposely placed him so he would stay OUT of trouble.

After changing his dirty diaper, I immediately placed him in his pack and play, someplace I don’t put him that often.   I had to go to the bathroom myself and didn’t want Davey roaming around and getting into his own level of treachery.   I figured the pack and play was a trouble-free zone especially since there are toys in there to occupy him.   

I placed the dirty diaper in one of the cubbies of the diaper caddy at the front of the pack and play and high tailed it into the bathroom.  A few minutes later, I was back in the family room listening to my son as he played.  I walked over to the pack and play and looked in.  The sight I saw elicited a scream out of me at a decibel I never thought possible.   My insides twisted and I nearly cried when I spied the empty diaper sitting behind my son and a large pile of orange/brown poop sitting in front of him while he patted it down like Play Doh!  

My scream startled him, but didn’t deter him from the continuous patting of the poop.   He even laughed at me before holding both pooped cover hands up at me as if to say “Hi, Mommy!  Come play with me.” 

Needless to say, I spent the rest of the morning, sterilizing my son, his clothes, his toys, and even the mat in the pack and play.   Any sort of fun activities or even the park visit I was planning, were quickly tabled thanks in no small part to my lapse in judgement and Davey’s mischievous nature.