We don’t let my oldest son go downstairs into the basement very often. So in rebellion he likes to chuck his things over the gate with the smallest sliver of hope that instead of scolding him and telling him to stop throwing things down the stairs, we’ll actually open the gate and let him crawl down the insanely steep staircase to retrieve said item.
It never happens.
He needs a new tactic.
The last couple of days I have been letting him come downstairs with me when I need to get something from the pantry like paper towels, brown sugar, powdered sugar – the works.
So he’s been getting really confident with the stairs – this kid is more confident than I am. I am terrified of falling down these stairs, and he will fearlessly try to carry a balloon twice his size up them without hesitation.
On another note, I bought him a set of cleaning tools. He has a cool kid-sized broom, duster, mop, and hand brush.
With the broom. This kid will go anywhere and everywhere with this broom. This broom may as well be named Steve because at this point, my son is best friends with a broom.
So I make my way downstairs – trying to be sneaky so he doesn’t follow me – to grab this computer that I’m currently writing with that my husband swore he would bring back upstairs in the morning that he did in fact forget to bring back upstairs.
I go grab the computer and turn the corner to find none other than my toddler and his broomstick trying really hard to climb down the stairs with the biggest grin on his face while he’s doing it.
I intercept Steve the broom and tell my kiddo to turn back around and head on upstairs because Mommy already has what she needs. He then proceeds to free fall onto me and essentially use my body as a kickstand.
My brain shouts “DANGER!” and I urge him to go up the stairs.
Finally, the dog comes to the rescue and starts eagerly jumping and hinting that she needs to go outside.
Does she actually need to go outside?
No, of course not, because I just let her back inside, but I’m silently thanking her for the distraction because my son loves to help, and I can use this as an opportunity to get him up the stairs to let her outside.
So he lets her outside and I ask him to “close the door!” in my super cheery mom voice, and
So he starts stomping and screaming and I hear Alexa in the background say that it’s 10:00 am so she’s starting Blue’s Clues on the TV.
I see him spot the tv out of the corner of his eye and use this opportunity to again, distract him.
“Do you want to go watch Blue’s Clues?”
“Here! Take your broom and go watch Blue’s Clues.”
*Snatches broom out of my hand and runs to watch Blue’s Clues.*
And as I write this, he stands one foot away from the tv dancing at the mail-time song.
I’m calling this:
This blog was contributed by the mom behind Rosemary & Mint. Are you interested in contributing to Kazu? Get in touch.
Rosemary & Mint
Mom of Two
She is a 29-year-old Hebrew Puerto Rican wife & mother with Bipolar (2) Disorder, a love for makeup, baking, and sleeping. Check out more of her blogs here.