From what I understand, *these days*, kids are "terrific" when they're two. I don't know what happened to the "terrible twos" but I hope that people *these days* aren't switching the nomenclature as some kind of joke.
During our last pediatrician appointment, Dr. J told us to be prepared that as our kids approached their 2-year birthday, they were going to have increasingly strong opinion(s) on matters. His analogy was the Hurricane Classification System. Right now, we're only at a Class I. But come their second birthday ... we'll be looking at a Class III. I was confused.
"Aren't there five classes of hurricanes?"
He chuckled. "Yes, there sure are. But you won't see the more destructive phases until they are three years old."
That really hit a chord with me. "The more destructive phases." See, Charlie and I had just had a conversation that our children are like a pack of carpenter ants. They literally work together as a team and mangle everything in their sight. I honestly believe that they are dead-set on destroying, or killing, every single item in this house. Our plants are rapidly withering away - their leaves in shreds, top soil all over the ground. If they could talk, the plants would undoubtedly ask "What did we ever do to deserve this?"
My question is simple. How in the world could our children be any more destructive than they are ... right NOW?
I've received at least 15 e-mails in regards to the yard sale we had last weekend. People were writing to me, inquiring how we were planning to transition our kids out of their cribs. I was dumbfounded.
WHY WOULD WE EVER DO THAT???
I went back and re-read my posting and believe the confusion stems from us selling all of our crib sets. I need to clarify. We sold the crib bumbers, dust ruffle and comforters from all three of our cribs. The babies were becoming extremely proficient at escaping by using the bumper pads as a leg up. Even without the bumper pads ... William escaped from his crib for the THIRD time the other night. I heard a thump! and within a matter of seconds, he was cruising out of the nursery with a big smile on his face.
Panick, like nothing I've ever experienced, sets in whenever I think of the absolute mayhem that would rein, should our children not
A friend of mine suggested that in lieu of crib tents, I flip the crib over, upside down ... so that the only open part of the crib is now on the floor. Charlie recently constructed an ingenious cover to protect our stereo, from the wrecking crew, using plexiglass. Another friend recommended that we purchase more plexiglass and place it over the tops of their cribs (secured with velcro), to keep them in.
Would it be awful to say we've seriously considered both of these options?
My mother slept in a crib until she was seven years old. Of course, she was the youngest of nine children ... and grew up during the Depression when money and bed availability (of the non-crib variety) was tight. I don't know if we'll be keeping our kids in their cribs until they are seven. But, maybe until they're four. Or five. Or, at least until the "eye" of this Hurricane passes.