While the cat's away...

...the mice will play.

Before I launch into a whole separate post to explain my absence, I must regale you with another thrilling tale about my wunderkind, my crazy and apparently very very curious just-turned-the-dreaded-three-years-old son.

To set the story up, you must know that I got on a plane Monday afternoon to go on a girls' only trip, leaving my son and my husband to their own devices for two and a half days. And you must know my personal theory about leaving my child with the husband for a couple of days: all is good if I get some much-needed free time and my child is still alive when I return home. Yep, we have a no questions asked policy, sort of a "what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" type mentality. It would be foolish for me to think that my husband would dutifully continue the potty-training, the schedule, the routine, the healthy meals, etc., perfectly in my absence, so I don't even bother pushing it. I just leave, enjoy my time knowing all-the-while my child is getting in some good father-son quality time, however that may occur, haha, and however many McDonald's Happy Meals that may entail, haha, and then come home.

Throughout my absence, I called to check on them and was told two interesting things: first, that my son fell asleep at school on Tuesday. Yes, it was during naptime, so that is the normal part, but the abnormal fact is that my son never falls asleep anymore during naptime at school. (Clue #1 to Mommy: something is up.) Secondly, my husband called yesterday to tell me that during the night, he heard a noise, got up to investigate, and found our son in the kitchen with his shoes on (who knew he could put shoes on by himself?) opening the side door out to the driveway. Thank the good Lord above the chain latch was set, blocking him from any nighttime adventures, but it was a good reminder to my husband that he should have continued setting the house alarm at night in my absence. (Clue #2 to Mommy: something wicked this way comes.) When he told me the story on the phone, not only was I a little bit beside myself at the fact that my precious child could have apparently embarked on his "flight to Egypt" without us knowing, but it just hammered in the idea that the teachers at school had also passed on to me: I have a very curious child.

Fast forward to this morning. After arriving home last night and passing out in my own bed, I woke up, walked down the hallway to shower some morning kisses on my beautiful boy and noticed before I opened his door that the lights were on in his bedroom. I opened the door to find my son lying across a partially made bed looking like a passed out drunken sailor, face-down across the top of the bed, shoes and socks on his feet (he chose some handsome dress shoes usually only worn to church and zipped them up on the opposite feet), every single light on in the room due to his recent ability to finally reach the lightswitches while on tiptoe (ceiling light, bed light inside his sleeping car-style bed, and closet light), books and book jackets strewn across the bed, comforter spread out across the floor, closet contents strewn across the bedroom, and stuffing floating like tumbleweeds across the room (from a toss pillow I had to take away a week ago and had put up HIGH in the closet, or so I thought, one that he likes to unzip the cover from, and pull out the stuffing by the handfuls). Not to mention some very dark baggy circles under his little sleep-deprived eyes.

Seriously? Ugh. This Mommy is going to have to now figure out a way to remind her son that we do not get up at nighttime, we do not turn on all the lights at nighttime, we do not put our shoes on at nighttime, we do not get up to read books at nighttime, we do not wreak havoc on our bedroom at nighttime, that nighttime IS ONLY FOR SLEEPING.

What happened to my beautiful two-year-old? The one that was a super champ, envied by all the other mommies for his ability to not only sleep soundly for 12-14 hours a night but also 2-4 hours each afternoon, the one who never would have dreamed about climbing out of bed nor causing any trouble while his ever-so-grateful mama was peacefully catching her own good night's sleep in the other room, secure in knowing that her son was sound asleep in the other room.

But as my husband so kindly pointed out this morning, there is a small bright side to this. Our child now knows how to put on his shoes and socks. Ha.