"Your son is trouble!" I e mailed my husband a few days ago while he was at work.
Hudson was playing upstairs with a friend when suddenly everything went quiet. Concerned, I tiptoed to his playroom and there, hiding behind boxes in the back of our office, was Hudson, a grin on his face and bubble wrap in his mouth.
"HUDSON!" I snapped, ripping the wrap out of his teeth. Scenes with paramedics and child protection workers all wagging their fingers played out in my head.
"We do not eat plastic, sweety," I said, trying to calm my tone. "We only eat FOOD."
Since Scarlett was born my angel-boy has been pushing boundaries.
Many times we have discussed, cautioned and explained to our two year old the dangers and pitfalls of eating plastic. But to no avail. Shocking.
Again, he stared at me sheepishly.
(I know what you're thinking - who keeps a baby death trap in reach of a toddler's klepto-grasp and why was there bubble wrap in my home? The answer is that we moved houses six days before Scarlett was born and I thought I got rid of all the plastic packaging - evidently I did not.)
At the start, Hudson would say things like "I'm lucky to have a sister," but then, out of the blue, like a bipolar out-patient off his meds, he picked up a cardboard box and whacked her.
Who can blame the poor kid? It's a big adjustment. (add to it a new house and a new school and it's amazing Hudson didn't whack me!)
He's been trying to make heads or tales of the situation.
"Mommy, why did Scarlett pop out of your tummy?" is a question we tackle often.
"Well," an adept friend told me to say, " we love you so much we decided to have another baby."
"Okay, can you give Scarlett to Daddy please?"
Sure Kiddo. Once I get her off my boob.