Rainy Day Hell…
I don’t know if it’s the same for everyone else, but cold, rainy days are my idea of a nightmare these days!
My son seems to get cabin fever very quickly, and if he doesn’t get fresh air he becomes a smaller, more annoying version of Taz the Tasmanian Devil; Remember the scenes when Taz literally becomes a whirlwind hurricane?
That’s my son, all around the flat, causing chaos in his wake.
He manages to find every tiny thing that you thought you had hidden or thrown away, from pieces of plastic, old food crumbs, to my box of sanitary towels which he seems to have a fascination with (maybe it’s the bright purple colour!).
At the moment, he has a fascination for the kitchen, toilet and bathroom bins (many a day I have to delve my hands in to retrieve any toys, cutlery, pegs or my belongings that are amidst the dirty nappies and household rubbish).
The other day my bedroom door knob snapped, probably from the pressure of me shutting it a thousand times a day. I’ve managed to replace it (go me!) but I don’t want it happening again (you have to pull it hard before it clicks into place… I’m not a DIY God you know!) so the door remains open. I’ve blocked it with a clothes horse and his toy sit-in car, but no, my son’s like The World’s Strongest Man, and seems to be able to move things out of the way!
He loves my bedside table, and especially loves chucking all its contents in the bin, or under the bed. He also has a thing for the baby monitor- the taste of it. As much as I would love never to hear that thing again whilst I’m trying to sleep, without it I would never hear him, so it’s a daily battle to stop him from destroying it, because I seem to forget I can move it before I leave my bedroom each morning in my sleep-deprived haze.
The worst thing he loves, is my living room TV. I don’t have the skills to put it on the wall, so I spend hours using the word ‘no’ and moving him away from it, to the point that the calm, but firm ‘no’, becomes a desperate, agitated scream; Both get me nowhere! And don’t even talk to me about the handprints (usually some food substance) on the screen that I cannot get off for love nor money.
Maybe it would be different if we had a garden, where I could retreat to for 20 seconds of peace, or he could run around in to let off his steam (with his coat on of course). So instead, we have to haul ass out somewhere (usually poor Nana has to have us, or I spend money I don’t have walking around Asda) until (or if) he gets tired.
I’m looking forward to the less wet days, so that we can go to parks and long walks so I can burn all this fat that I still haven’t attempted to shift. Yes I know there are some amazing parents out there that can take their children out whatever the weather, but I don’t find it easy!
Yes we have walked in the rain, after me lugging all the necessary extra equipment for all weather possibilities from pram rain covers, to pram sunshades, to extra clothing, coats and umbrellas, but through my stupidity, I’ve ended up with mouldy cosy toes from forgetting to haul the pram up to the flat to dry out afterwards (it lives in my car), and an even more painful back at the end of it, so bring on the summer!
Indoor play areas are an option, but as he is still finding his feet, he tends to get rammed and pushed over by all the big kids tearing through the place, and don’t get me started on the prices of those places!
How do you deal with kid’s cabin fever?