My happy place is not near the bathtub

I posted two days ago about how I used to panic during E’s “I’m-a-toddler-watch-me-freak-out-my-mother-by-climbing-way-too-high-on-everything” phase of childhood.  (See post at

To prove to you that I have gone way too far in the other direction (i.e, perhaps too relaxed now?), know that today T

(1)  picked up a stool

(2)  moved it over to the refrigerator

(3)  climbed onto it

(4)  reached up to the handle that dispenses water, and

(5)  pushed the handle to make that water shoot out everywhere – on him, his clothes, the floor, everything…

Fortunately, there was already a floor mat in that area of the kitchen (i.e. no one is in danger of slipping and breaking a neck).  So instead of freaking out, I have decided that every time T does that, I’m going to count it as his bath for the day.

I may even put a little soap dispenser there so he can suds up.

Too relaxed?

Oh well.

Why look for a happy medium, when you’ve already found your happy place?!


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