Rascally

Rascally is the word I seem to use the most of late. It is always in reference to John. Always. In the past week, he climbed into the dryer, on top of the couch backs, onto my night stand to get to my make up bag on the tall dresser, on top of the kitchen table, on top of the play kitchen, and finally, out of his crib. The crib was the worst. We would have to lay down next to the crib until he fell asleep otherwise he would immediately climb out of the crib. His door does not engage so he would open the door and just walk out of his room. Then I accidentally (read blessing from Heaven) discovered that he couldn't get out of his pack and play. So John has been in his pack and play ever since and will be until we figure out how to keep him in his crib. He even got out of his crib with a sleep sack on. I am now at the point with John that it is just better if we aren't home because I just chase him around getting him out of and off of everything he shouldn't be into. He will push toys over to where he wants them and the uses them as a stepping stool to get to whatever he shouldn't be into. He colored in one of Aaron's Portuguese Book of Mormons. Whenever I hear of mothers with lots of boys, I just wonder how they survived.... and how the boys survived as well....