As you can tell by the title, I had a failed attempt at having a phone call today while the baby was awake. HA! Before we begin, lets take a look at the culprit:
That is the face. The face to end it all. Cute right? He knows how to work it. Don’t let him fool you. So here is how it all went down. I had a phone call come in for a marketing contract. I was discussing the details of everything with the person on the other end. All while sweet heart up there sat at my feet playing. That is until he heard the word “Hello” escape my lips. Once that happened, he took off.
First, he went straight for my stack of papers. Destroyed in 30 seconds flat.
Then, he went for the desk while I was picking up the papers and still trying to speak calmly. He tore out every take out menu and package of batteries we had. On the bright side, I found where he hid the remote last month.
I quickly, and by quickly I mean within a solid 45 seconds, moved him away from that and began picking up that mess. Still discussing ROI’s and SWOT analysis btw. He took off like a shot yelling ‘yayayay’ the whole way. Its the baby equivalent of ‘ATTACK’ and a war cry. If you hear that, run. Run fast.
I turned around to see him pulling every. Single. Movie. (100+) off the shelf in record time, 3-4 at a time, all while giggling uncontrollably. By this point, I’m sure the woman on the other end thought I was running a mad house (thankfully, I was the customer in this scenario, so she was going to be polite about it because she wants my business).
I gave him the 50th toy I could find by this point, while trying to clean up the mess and keep the conversation going, and pulling him off of the desk chair, the toy box, and out from behind the couch. Twice. By this point I’m at minute 6 ish. He baby-crawl-sprinted-(flew?) over the bay window and began pulling off candles and plants. I did the mom-sprint-stilltalking-tryingnottosoundoutofbreath run over there to save the baby, then the plants, then the candles.
Again, he war cried over to the cabinet in the kitchen and began ripping out all of the gravy and soup mixes, pudding mixes, and boxes of jello. By that point, I figured if he tore into anything and ate it, it was just paper and edible stuff anyway. I let it happen. I didn’t care. Why didn’t I care? I still had more information to glean at this point (and yes the conversation was necessary to have at that time, as it was the only time she was free and I needed the information for a business associate within the hour) and so I just sat down, and stayed within a reasonable distance to make sure he didn’t break himself.
He. Won. He is One. A one year old beat me today. And you have just had a glimpse of ten minutes of my day.
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