Sometimes it seems as if our two and a half year old is growing older by the minute. Well I guess he actually is, but you know what I mean. He still takes a decent nap in the afternoons and on many days when I’m working from home, Mommy uses the time to get out to the store, help at the elementary school and go other often unnamed but surely important places.

Our little guy is just about through potty training but still sleeps in his crib, locked in by his crib tent. We’ve set up a twin size bed in his room with a guard on it for when he or we are ready for him to move, but a few half hearted attempts to try it out haven’t really been successful so far.

This afternoon, Mommy put him down a bit early so she could go help in the cafeteria at the older boys’ school while I worked at home down the hall from him in my office. After twenty minutes or so, he still hadn’t gone to sleep and was in fact yelling, “Come back here!”

I popped my head in to check on him and discovered that he was wide awake and barefoot. He’d pulled his socks off – not a good idea on this chilly day and since he was still getting over a cold. I looked around his crib, but the socks were no where to be found. He was zipped inside his tent so there were limited places he could have put them.

After the initial search proved fruitless, I got tough and shined the nightlight in his eyes and turned his sound machine volume up to ungodly levels. He finally broke down and confessed that, in a fit of desperation thinking that Mommy would never return, he’d stuffed the missing socks under his crib sheet and mattress pad. Of course he did.

He then threw a fit when I tried to put the socks back on him, so I had to wrestle him down and finally was able to get the blessed socks back on his blessed feet. I then left the room despite his loud protests. I swear, now that he’s talking in full sentences, I look at him sometimes and feel like I’m talking to that baby in the E-Trade commercials.

As I finished up a conference call, I could still hear him griping in his crib, this time about having to go pee pee. I went back to his room to see what trouble he’d worked himself into and discovered that he’d taken off his pants and his diaper and had peed in his bed.

“Why did you do that?” I asked him.

“I don’t know…where’s Mommy?” was of course his reply. At least his socks were still on.

I changed him into dry clothes, put a thick towel down on his crib and talked about how it was now time to go to sleep. “But I’m not tired,” he protested, followed by, “I want Mommy to come check on me.”

“Mommy’s at the boys’ school,” I explained, “She’ll see you when you wake up.”

He decided to try another approach – “I want to wrestle with you Daddy!”

I told him how Daddy was supposed to be working and if I didn’t get my work done we wouldn’t have any money and he’d have to sleep naked out in the woods. (OK, I didn’t say quite all that). But I did put him back in his crib and shut the door.

He proceeded to yell that he was not tired and that he would “never, ever, go to sleep.” “EVER!” he repeated about 10 times as loud as he could yell just in case the entire neighborhood had not yet heard him.

My iPhone chirped that I needed to jump on my next call. I sent Mommy a quick text and pressed the MUTE button on my headset as my conference call began. Fun times.

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