Dear Buddy,

Dear Buddy,

We need to have a talk.  The messes have got to stop.  I cannot keep up with you.  You love to get into everything.  You consider anything fair game.  Your daddy has done extra baby-proofing around the house that we never needed with your sister.  And it still isn't enough.  You are teaching your sister bad habits.  She has started to dump baskets and bins out and watch all the toys scatter across the floor.  I know she learned that from watching you!  Upstairs, you love to empty out my bathroom drawer, sort through my shoes, and pull all of the books off the shelf.  You also found Daddy's penny jar this week.  (Daddy when you read this, we need to find a new place for your change before Buddy ends up swallowing them.)  Downstairs, your favorite thing is to empty out Punky's play refrigerator.  There are about 50 pieces of food all over the floor within 10 seconds of you being let loose.  You would prefer to empty out the real kitchen cupboards, but I do my best to keep you out of there.  Another favorite is to completely empty the cabinet under the TV, which by the way takes me over 10 minutes to put everything back in its place.  Can you imagine the messes you make while I am trying to do that?  I cannot keep up with you anymore and you aren't even walking yet.  I have partially surrendered to you and have decided to only pick up toys before nap time, before Daddy comes home from work and before bedtime.  It helps some, but I can feel myself become a crabby mommy.  I don't want to be angry, but the messes just stress me out.  I laughed at myself today when I threatened you, at only 10 months old, with a timeout.  Please, Buddy, can some of my neatness and organizational skills rub off on you before too long?  Your teenage years are going to be terrible if we don't get this straightened out soon (pun intended).
Love,
Mommy