I have raised, at least partially, 4 sons. Boys who everyone told me were the busiest of the child creatures. "4 boys? Wow! How do you do it?" people would ask. "Oh, it's busy but I love it" I would reply.
Having 3 toddler boys and a newborn baby boy at home was a BREEZE compared to Miss Curious and her counterparts Miss Tiny and Miss Precious. All 3 babies are now one year old. Miss Curious is actually 11 and simply trapped in a one year old's body but that is besides the point.
Either I cursed her or accurately read the future when I named her Miss Curious for the blog's sake. She is into EVERYTHING.
Looking back on the boys toddler years I have the few obligatory pictures of Tanner getting into my lipstick, or the time Greg painted his nails, and Eric was a bit more of a handful hiding food under his bed or eating candy when he wasn't supposed to.
With Miss Curious, I take a picture a day. A DAY. Today (and its only just after lunch time) she got down a tin of coffee grounds and dumped it onto the kitchen floor to make a sand box. Then she ate at least a tablespoon or more. All this while I was putting the two little ones down for a nap. While I got the babies up from their nap she figured out how to turn the spiggot on my laundry detergent (after getting into a closed door). Yesterday she emptied a jar of nuttella on herself and her sister.
But the highlight of my week? The jar of loc'ing wax. You don't know what that is? Ahhh let me tell you ... its a beeswax based product that comes in a jar - with a screw top lid. It is SPECIFICALLY for locing hair into locs or dreads. In other words its incredibly sticky stuff and made to NOT come off, of anything.
Back to my story ...
It was playgroup day and the babies were needing changing and packing up into the truck. When you have 3 kids that need to be put into carseats you realize that it is a PROCESS. Miss Curious cannot be left outside while I load the non-walking babies as she is a "bolter" (again my first child that lives to run down the road to see the interesting dogs and cars down the block) but I could see her happily playing in the corner of the kitchen with the dog and some random toy. All was good. All were safe.
I loaded the babies and came back to grab my precious almost-two-year-old.
She was covered. COVERED in wax. "Kweeme Mommy?" she asked.
"Nooooooooooo" I wailed for probably the 47th time that day.
And then I saw the dog.
It is impossible to get out of dog hair.
In case you ever wonder, all the things that parenting your first four children teach you is thrown out the window for number five.