Yesterday, we were doing a room swap with the kids to get things back to pre-visitor conditions. F.T.* was following me around (as always), cramming things into his mouth as often as possible and pulling things down from any reachable surface (as always). Back and forth we went, trying to restore some sense of order, but really just producing more chaos. About the time I heard a little distress cry, I realized I hadn't tripped over any small people in the last few steps. More crying alerted me that there was indeed a problem. So, I retraced my steps, knowing he wouldn't be far behind. The crying grew louder, but the baby did not present himself. "How do you lose a baby in 600 sq. ft.?!" you ask. Well, you trap him in the closet, of course! On my last trip through the kids' room, I had very carefully and diliberately closed the closet door to keep Max out of there. And wouldn't you know that I actually closed him up! When I opened the door, I found him completely heart-broken, sitting in a carry-on suitcase, looking pathetic and adorable. And don't you know I felt like the world's worst mommy! But, I don't really think Max was that traumatized, since he has not backed off of his closet (or any other) explorations in the least. At least now I know where to find him if he comes up missing!
*F.T. Baby is the nickname we have given Max, because he is Full-Time like you can't believe!
It can be so frustrating to be cleaning with a mess-maker right behind you. It's enough to make you want to give up on the whole cleaning thing for a few years :)
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