A Morning With Kevin

Of course I spend virtually every morning with Kevin, but I thought I’d just give you a little peek into our world. Let me know if any of this sounds familiar.

This morning, like all other non-work mornings, I was summoned to his room by ‘boing boing boing boing,’ which is essentially what he’s doing in his crib; bouncing up and down, sometimes getting a good 6 inches of air. Quite frankly, I’m surprised he hasn’t catapulted right out onto the floor yet. Oddly enough, he can bounce like this mere seconds after waking, I’ve seen him do it with his eyes all squinty and barely open. Its as if his little toddler instinct says “yippee, its morning time. Lets get going!” He’s ecstatic to see me every morning when I peek into his door and he is instantly forgiven for anything and everything he has done or is about to do.

Mornings are fairly relaxed at our house; I make coffee, Kev clamors for his “wonk” which is soy milk; he currently prefers chocolate flavored. He generally also wants coffee and I comply. Now, before you all get up in arms about me giving a toddler coffee, keep in mind that my coffee is mixed with plenty of soy milk and I then pour that into his milk. So really he’s drinking soy milk with a very small amount of coffee in it.

This particular morning, Kev is bringing me vanilla and vinegar from my baking cupboard. They are in identical jugs and he is counting them for my benefit; “one, three . . .”

There is rarely a moment in my morning when I cannot reach out and touch Kev as he seems to be glued to my side. I’m currently sitting at the kitchen table using my laptop, and he is at my right elbow, examining the cooking oil bottle. Earlier I went to tidy some toys in his room and he played intently with his cars and trucks just next to me until I left his room.

Morning is bathtime for Kev and immediately follows his first stinky diaper of the day. Some days he can be left playing in the tub for almost an hour and other days he says “done done” after only a minute or two of playing. The way our home is set up, I can hear him from wherever I am on the main floor. Often I work in the kitchen; sometimes in my room. Sometimes I even dare to sit at the computer and do some work while he’s having a bath. But that doesn’t happen often; the last time I did that I tuned out his excited commentary from the bathroom. “Tub. Poopy. Tub. Poopy in Tub.”

Kev signals the end of bathtime by flinging his toys onto the floor. First one, then another, and another, and then they all come flying out of the tub in rapid succession. I’ve learned a lesson, and that is to put small toys in the tub that cannot hold water, and therefore are not holding a gallon of water when they land on the floor.

At present, he is wearing his pyjamas, a green pasta strainer on his head and my runners on his feet. He is asking to “opendo” the vanilla and vinegar jugs but is very agreeable when I say no. Does anyone else ever wonder what exactly goes on in a toddler’s head?