The little one had become a climber. Since walking as fast as her feet would carry her did not cause enough trouble, she added a new skill to her repertoire.
Faster than a speeding bullet up the stairs. Quicker than a cat into the rocking chair. More troublesome than a barrel of monkeys onto the stool in the bathroom (giving her much greater access to the contents of the countertop. Oy.
She’s standing on the little chairs and rocking in the rocking chairs. She has mastered one of our regular rocking chairs and rocks away with a huge grin on her face.
She zips up the stairs in the time it takes me to brush my teeth. I’m constantly running up to bring her back down. She knows that her bedroom — and her blanket and pacifier — are up there and she goes to get them.
While she has mastered going up all these things, she has one problem. Unless it’s a one step descent, she can’t go down.