Busted!

The tricky thing about my youngest is he is a bit of a sleeper cell. You get lulled into a false sense of security despite his young age by his bizarrely amazing behavior.

Oh. Wyatt will be fine in the garage while I run back and turn off the hose.

And when you return two seconds later he has climbed to the top of a set of shelves. Having never before shown any proclivity in scaling furniture you are caught of guard and, yes, a little proud that he got so high so fast.

Now this occurrence is rare, making it that much easier to forget those few and far between times when the big guy deviated from his well-behaved path.

So you can see why I never really saw it coming.

I have been feeling a little queasy in the morning with #3 on the way and like to sit on the couch munching dry Fiber One shredded wheat. I'm not sure if it's their bite-sized size or what, but my kids love this cereal.

Lets just say things have been pretty regular at our house lately.

I digress.

Anyway, after munching my cereal, I schlump into the kitchen to tidy somewhat.

I heard nothing.

Not a crinkle.

Not a crunch.

It was only when Wyatt came wandering in from the living room chewing something did my alert button go off.

Mr. Stealth had somehow, without a sound, emptied the box next to the couch.

The funniest part was watching him try to shove as many wheat squares into his mouth as possible as I picked up.

Let's just end on the note that all was cleaned up, and Wyatt had his full amount of fiber that day.

What's going on?

I don't know.

I really don't.

Wake Up Call

Last night before I tucked my oldest into bed I asked her to wait a little longer before wandering down to our room to wake us up.

"Maybe play with your Barbies or read some books."

"Ok Mommy."

Well, this morning as my husband and I worked out of our groggy morning state straaaaange noises started to come across Wyatt's monitor. Noises that sounded suspiciously like our oldest daughter. We lay there and listened for a brief moment laughing at the little interactions. The last thing we heard before popping out of bed was

"Don't worry Wyatt. I'll go get my jump rope so you can climb out."

When we went up to Wyatt's room, miscellaneous toys had been tossed in and there was a huge pile of pillows in front of the crib.

I guess the jump rope was plan B.