A day at the movies

Yesterday, on a whim, I decided to take Perrin to the dollar theater to see Kung Fu Panda 2. I was fully aware of the craziness of taking an 18-month-old to the movies, but since it was only a dollar, I figured I didn't have much to lose (except a dollar... and possibly my sanity. That's all).

We went to a show in the middle of the day, so we practically had the theater to ourselves except for a man there with his daughter (who looked about 3) and someone who sat in the very back row all alone. Pretty ideal conditions, really. No angry mobs to ambush us when we would inevitably destroy the ambiance.

I contemplated grabbing one of the booster seats provided for little kids, but I figured Perrin would prefer to sit on my lap. We found our seats, and I needed to put down my things and get situated so I briefly stuck Perrin in the seat beside me. It promptly folded him in half. And he let me know in no uncertain terms that he did NOT appreciate that. I rescued him from the mean old chair and let him snuggle up with me.

For a little while, Perrin was a perfect angel. He sat in my lap and sipped his milk and snacked on raisins (yes, I snuck in food and milk. Come on, I'm not going to feed my toddler coke and gummy bears for his afternoon snack). I think he was pretty fascinated by the gigantic screen. But after about half an hour, he was ready to explore. He ran up and down our row, which I didn't mind since it was empty and I could easily keep an eye on him. He came back to me every now and then to watch more of the movie. Then he got a little braver and wandered out of our row and into the main aisle--which meant it was time for me to chase after him. As soon as he saw I was coming for him, he starting shrieking and giggling at the top of his lungs and ran straight for the front of the theater. I chased him in front of the screen, ducking the whole time so I wouldn't block the view (try running and ducking while chasing a giggling toddler sometime... it's LOADS of fun). I finally caught him and realized he was really, really stinky.

I let Perrin walk to and from the bathroom for his diaper change, then we went back in the theater. But I guess that little taste of freedom ruined him for the rest of the movie--from that point on, he thought it was a great big game of hide-and-seek in the dark. I got tired of that pretty quickly, so we left. In all, we saw about an hour of the movie--which was more than half. So it wasn't too bad, I guess.

Watch out, Everest!

Perrin has become quite a climber. He's always loved going up and down stairs and pulling himself onto furniture. But he's taken it to a new level recently (literally). Four times yesterday (four times!) I had to pull him off our dining room table. He had climbed up, seated himself directly in the middle, and begun dumping salt all over the table and floor (I knew I shouldn't have shown him how a salt shaker works... stupid, stupid, stupid).

He can also climb up on our bar stools and reach our kitchen counters. Nothing is safe anymore! I guess it's about time to bolt the bookcases to the wall. We see shelves; he sees ladders.

1 job + 1 job = 2 much craziness

It's sometimes tough to balance my two jobs (part time at FamilyLife, full time mommy). I'm so glad I can work from home, but it means that occasionally the two worlds collide. And not in a good way.

I had just gotten Perrin up from a nap yesterday when my cell phone rang. It was someone from work, calling to discuss some details for a training seminar we're organizing in a couple weeks. I sat down at my work computer so I could look over a spreadsheet while I was talking. I figured Perrin would be fine wandering around the house by himself for 15 or 20 minutes. After I'd been on the phone a couple minutes, I heard the pitter patter of his little feet running down the hall towards me. I was still focused on the computer screen, so I didn't bother looking at him until he thrust his hand at me and said, "This! This!" As in, "Look at this, Mommy!" I looked. His hand and arm up to his elbow were COVERED in huge globs of vaseline. I cradled the phone against my shoulder and rushed him into the kitchen to try to rinse it off. But guess what? Vaseline doesn't rinse off. And his icky hand was touching everything within reach. I grabbed about 20 paper towels and began wiping him down, all while trying to continue my conversation in a somewhat professional manner. I had to run back and forth from my computer a few times to answer some questions. By then, the vaseline was all over me, my clothes, and Perrin's hair. I finally got him marginally clean, then I dared to approach the mess in my bedroom. Yep, just as I suspected--vaseline all over the floor. I got off the phone and started cleaning.

Hmm... an office job is starting to look kind of nice again.