Why I Had To Start Coloring My Hair....

My son was a holy terror.  You hear about the Terrible Twos; well, the Twos weren't so bad; in my experience things got really hairy once my son turned three.  Then he could talk as well as getting into things!

I had to watch him every second, or he'd be into something else.  I'd hear him in the kitchen, rattling around, and call out, "What are you doing?", only to get the answer, "Nothing that pertains to you!"  Of course, this was my cue that I'd better go and check what he was doing, and quickly.

I'd usually find him on the counter, and into the kitchen cabinets.  He'd get there by pulling out the four drawers under the counter, making steps leading up to the counters so that he could easily just step up, one by one, and then onto the counter.  Once there, he'd open the cabinets and help himself to whatever he happened to find there that interested him at the time, either food or just some general items to make a good mess with.

One day I heard him calling out, in a sing-song voice, "It's snowing!  It's snowing!" and figured that couldn't be good, what with being inside the house.  Upon walking into the kitchen, I found him standing on the counter with the flour canister's lid off, taking handfuls of flour and throwing them as high as he could and watching it fall.  There was flour all over the kitchen and dining room.  Snowing, indeed!

One of the most interesting things he came up with, which I have to give him credit for, was the "Start and Stop."  He'd been doing the puzzles in children's puzzle books that looked like maps, where there was a "start" point, and you'd use a crayon or pencil to follow the twisting, turning road on the page to the end, or "stop."  These he called "Starts and Stops."  One night, he excitedly called me into his room, saying, "Mom, come see what I did!"  I went in to find him standing on his bed, proud as punch, as he'd drawn his very own "Start and Stop" map on the wall next to his bed.  Not a small one, mind you, but one the full size of the wall.  He'd even added trees, houses, flowers and various other objects you'd find along a winding path, should you walk that path.

He was so proud of himself, and I had to admit that he'd done a great job.  I just wished he hadn't done it on the wall.  So I praised him, but also told him that even though he'd done a wonderful job, that I really didn't want him drawing on the wall any more, and he was fine with that.

Thank goodness for washable markers...and really good hair coloring kits.