I Thought He Was So Big

When I was 10, I got my first job.

I delivered newspapers throughout the neighborhood on my bicycle.  And I got grouchy when my dad insisted on going with me each month when I went from door-to-door to collect payments.  Goodness.  How embarrassing. Come on, Dad, I'm 10!

I thought I was big!

Looking back it's hard to believe some of the things my parents let me do. And looking back, it's hard to believe some of the things I let this little booger do.

Brandon, 22 months

It's hard to believe the things that I let him do when he was 22-months old.

When he was 22-months old, this little girl was born.

Corrine a few days old

Overnight, I went from saying "my-time-is-your time" to "just a minute, just a minute".  Especially those first few weeks when I felt like I was permanently adhered to the sofa, nursing a newborn.

The thought of him playing calmly with some toys on the living room floor for 30-45 minutes (eight times a day) was laughable.  Even more ridiculous was the thought of  him sitting still and looking at books.

So, one afternoon, I let him go outside and play.  By himself.  After all, he was big.  He was 22-months old.  My logic?  Our property was fully fenced and we had a dog.

Moe and Brandon

I relaxed on the couch with the newborn until I heard a noise.  Sprinklers?  Why in the world were the lawn sprinklers coming on at this time of day?  I went outside and found Brandon squatting in front of the sprinkler control box.  I turned off the sprinklers and told him not to ever touch that box.  He agreed and skipped off around the corner.  I returned inside to continue the feeding session.  From my spot on the couch I could catch glimpses of him out the window.  Good, no more sprinklers. But wait!  What?!?!

There he was, pulling ALL of my potted plants out of their containers.  He was smiling, and I was NOT impressed.

I reprimanded him and returned to the house.

I finished up with Corrine and went to the kitchen.  I turned on the water faucet.  No water.  No water?  No way.  You have got to be kidding me.  There is no way!

But there was.  He had made a beeline for the well, climbed under the tarp that was bungeed over the well, opened the electrical panel and flipped off the breaker.  Not good.  Not good at all.

I turned the switch back on, closed the panel, told him never, ever to play with those switches and made a mental note to buy locks for all our panels.   He walked back with me to the house.  I could hear Corrine fussing, and I stepped inside to check on her, leaving Brandon standing at the back door.  One or two minutes later, I stepped back outside to be with Brandon.  There he was, five feet from the back door.  Good.  He's still alive.  And he's just playing nicely with some rocks...wait.  What?!?!  What is he doing with those handfuls of pea gravel?

He had taken the lid off the salt tank for the water softener and was throwing in handfuls of pea gravel.

By that time, the Crazy Kid Horn was playing a rather harmonious duet with the Horrible Mom Siren.

"Inside.  Inside you go.  You can't be outside by yourself.  Not for a moment."

So, I brought him inside.

And this is what he did inside.

(BTW, I recently sold that chair on Craiglist.  The ad said, "From a pet and smoke-free home."  I kind of forgot about that incident.  Truly, I did.)

When Allan got home, the first thing he noticed were the plants strewn all over the sidewalk and the wet lawn.  I gave him the full scoop.

He didn't say much, but he didn't need to.  By the look on his face, the Crazy Kid Horn was blaring away another number with the Horrible Mom Siren.

"Brandon, why don't you come outside with me," he said.  "We'll go check on the vegetable garden."

Ten or fifteen minutes later, Allan stuck his head in the door.  "Is Brandon in here?" he asked.

I didn't say much, but I didn't need to.  The Crazy Kid Horn was gearing up for a new number, and MY participation was not required this time.  "No.  I thought he was with you."

"He was.  We were in the garden, then all the sudden he wasn't there.  I've looked all over, and I can't find him anywhere," he said.

I went outside with him and we began combing the property again.  He was nowhere to be found.

I was too worried to have much of an "I-told-you-so" attitude.

Then, as we walked past the BBQ grill, we heard a little voice.  "Boo!"

There he was.  Inside the BBQ grill where the propane tank is stored.  He had climbed in and shut the doors behind him.  How?  I don't know.  He was (and is) handy like that.  He always has been.  (When he was a baby he got a bottle of Motrin, took the child-resistant cap off with his teeth and drank the whole bottle.  I called Poison Control, and as soon as they heard his weight they said, "He will be fine.  Maybe a bit sleepy, but fine.  That's why they make the bottle small.")

Over the past 6 years, I've learned a few things.  But mostly, I've learned to do the best that you can.  You'll still be surprised by what some of them can accomplish (or demolish) in such a short amount of time.

What a little booger.

And I thought he was so big.