Play Pens

So far, my kids have never been ones to play with their toys. They find that the Tupperware cupboard or rolls of toilet paper are much more fun. We have baskets full, drawer fulls, closets full of toys, and on most days they go untouched. I have no idea why. We have great toys, but for some reason, old spray bottles, Austin’s sandals, and cardboard boxes provide them the most entertainment.

Not only do the boys not really play with their toys, they play in the most peculiar spots around the house…especially Wyatt. He loves playing beneath the clothes in our closet that hang on the lower rung and barely skim the floor. I will find him back there with my brushes or race cars doing who knows what. He loves to climb on top of Dax’s train table in his room and play King Kong and destroy the entire train city. Then he will sit up their easily for a half hour (as long as Dax isn’t around). He’s mastered climbing onto the couch and crawls to the corner of the sectional where he lounges amidst all the fluffy pillows and looks around like we should be fanning him and feeding him grapes because of his wonderful accomplishment. Whenever we go outside in the back he beelines it to Austin’s beautiful garden, climbs over the three story high brick pavers and plants himself right next to the tomato plant with a shovel. It’s the tomato plant every time. Forget the lettuce or cilantro. Just the tomatoes. Oddly enough he has never once tried to pull off the cute green tomatoes growing or the yellow flowers that are budding. He just sits in the dirt and digs. He loves to play under the kitchen table, behind my easel floor mirror, under the desk while I work, behind the side table in the den. I’m starting to realize it may just be any spot his brother might find it hard to get to him.

I find all these play spots endearing. He is so charming and happy and content and it’s fun to watch to see what he does.

Nevertheless, there is one spot in the house that he tries to get to multiple times a day and keeping him out of it has become the vain of my existence. He screams and yells and turns red in the face trying to get out of my arms when he wants this spot. He is getting so fast and sometimes I don’t even have time to get to him before it’s all over. It’s becoming quite the power struggle between the two of us and what’s even worse is Dax thinks it’s the funniest thing and that just encourages Wyatt even more.

Yup, the bathroom sink. What is it about a porcelain bowl with a plug that is so appealing? Maybe it's the monumental task it takes to get in it, which he has mastered to do in 3 seconds. Maybe it's the pump soap bottle he's after, that if you notice, is completely empty thanks to Wyatt. Maybe it's the perfect size and roundness for his little legs and bum to fit in comfortably. Maybe it's the mirror he gets to laugh into when he sees himself.

Whatever it is, I thought it was cute for a second.

Until he figured out how to turn on the water.