I’m not perfect at this, but I’m really trying to be judicious over what we will allow G to do and not do. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m lax on a lot of things (you wanna play with a fork, kid? sure!) and yes, I cave in on a lot of his requests after a certain amount of whining (Ok, fine — you can take my computer mouse), but I really want to put my foot down on the big stuff. I also want to let him know when I mean business and that getting in trouble has consequences.
I’m trying to establish a “time out” zone for G. I wanted somewhere he won’t easily run away from, but not used for other purposes. His dining room chair is out. While it fulfills part I of the requirement, it fails horribly in part II and I didn’t want him to associate eating with being in trouble. So I had an epiphany: the Bumbo chair. He never sat in it much as a wee one: we still have it downstairs, and he’s got a small enough rear, he can still fit.
So I tried it (during a legitimate timeout offense, I assure you)!
Fail 1: I thought that he’d be small enough to still sit in it, but too big to be able to get out on his own. Wrong!!! 10 seconds into Time Out, G just got up and rolled away. I put him back in, he rolled away again.
Fail 2: A week later, I come to see this:

That’s right: in the middle of his play-space, G got one of his toys and quietly crept into his Bumbo and decided to play.
What gives, kid? Now, what am I supposed to do for a time-out chair? If he thinks Bumbo is for fun, it’s no good as a “you’re in trouble, Young Man” thinking place.
Darn kid! Neutralized my parenting weaponry even before we got going.
Back to the drawing board…





Tylenol and Motrin sure are getting a run for their money around these here parts. You see, G is getting a visit by the tooth-gifting faerie and she has not been kind. His nose has been draining like a faucet, his diaper rash is never-ending, and his personality? Well, let’s just say it leaves a lot to be desired. To top it off he’s trying to gnaw on just about everything in sight… like my chair arm-rest for example… or my fingers. He’s never been much of a teether-kind of kid, and now that he’s got his incisors and first molars in, it’s hard to get into the nooks & crannies he really wants to scratch.








