My son turned a year old on the 21, and I had his birthday party on Saturday the 22. I haven’t had a birthday party since I was eleven, and I definitely have never thrown one! I was so nervous because I wanted it to be perfect, but thankfully it went amazingly: he played with several toddlers, shared his toys, and loved his smash cake.
Fast forward to Monday. I’m eating a leftover cupcake and since I can’t eat anything within my son’s sight without him clawing at me until I give him some (any suggestions for stopping that, by the way?), I gave him a tiny piece after I scraped all the icing off the cupcake. When we were done, I threw the icing-covered wrapper away in the kitchen.
My entire home is child-proofed (or so I thought), so he frequently goes into the kitchen to play on his own, where I can hear him but can’t quite see him from the computer in the living room. After we ate, I started working at the computer and he made his way into the kitchen. It sounded like he was playing with his alphabet refrigerator magnets.
I was so, so wrong.
After about four minutes, I heard him make his ‘yum yum’ noise, and I knew exactly what he was doing. I ran into the kitchen and yup, there he was: covered from head to toe in icing, with the soggy cupcake wrapper on the floor next to him.
It was in his hair; on his arms, legs, and feet; and his little beer-belly was covered. It was even on his back, although I have no idea how he managed that. The floor around him was streaked with it, and so was the garbage can.
So, yeah. My son got into the trashcan like a little disobedient puppy and ate trash. What a #MomWin. I guess my punishment for thinking there was nothing he could get into was the clean-up?
Be on the lookout for my Day Eight post, and feel free to share yours below!