Climbing Obsession

I often wonder why I achieve very little in the way of writing some days, and then I sit down and reflect on my week and wonder how I managed to achieve anything at all. This week is one of those weeks. As per usual, it is the middle of the night once again as I write this. My daughter woke up at 01:30am this time. Feeling a little nausea from lack of sleep I took her downstairs, made her a warm drink, rubbed baby balsam on her chest (the lavender can be quite soothing) and put on the Night Garden with the volume turned low. I then made myself a cup of tea, sat down and just stared at the pages of a book I’m currently reading. This week Elizabeth has seriously had the climbing bug. Whether I’m doing the dishes, or trying to catch up on email, every two minutes I’m pulling Elizabeth off the bookcase or tv unit. So whilst a task would usually take ten minutes to complete, it has been taking thirty. I was at a complete loss on how to deal with this behaviour. When I firmly say no, two minutes later she is at it again and, Elizabeth simple would not grasp the concept of behavioural modifications such as time out. Yesterday my exhaustion went up a notch when from mid morning until late afternoon all she wanted me to do was nurse her, her cries becoming more stressful when I had to put her down to go to the bathroom. Tears streaming down her face I eventually packed her up in the car and took her to my parents. She immediately cheered up and happily bounced on the trampoline for the next half hour. My father of course denied that she had been putting it on the whole time. He calls her his little angel and according to him she can do no wrong. Once home, Elizabeth began her training for the K2 summit once again. I had had enough. Taking everything off the bookcase in the lounge room I moved it into the garage, replacing it with two smaller bookcases that came level with my daughters eyes and thus had no climbing appeal whatsoever. I then moved the tv unit into the far corner away from the wrought iron candle holder that hangs on the wall and everything else within reach of her fingers, re-arranging the two lounge chairs to suit. So far it has been a success and for once I’ve been able to sit down and finish a cup of tea in one go. I mean, so what if the beautiful timber bookcase that has been regulated into the garage was replaced with two chipboard creations, the white laminate standing out glaringly from the rest of the furniture, at least now I’ve got a little of my sanity back. Now, if only I can get her to sleep.