Living With A Dare Devil

 

Browsing through my feed on Instagram the other day, it struck me how we are living with an actual dare devil on a daily basis.

Before he could even walk, G was getting into mischief.

He has always pulled off his socks-so much so that on especially cold days, I totally flummox him and put tights on him. It keeps him occupied for hours trying to get them off.

I have no advice on how to curb his dare devil tendencies. I tend to just let him get on with it unless he is in mortal danger.

I bought them a table and chairs for colouring and snacks in the living room. Not content with sitting on the chair in the usual way, G likes to put the chair on the table.

 

He uses his toy tractor as a leg-up to the window sill and sits there like some kind of garden ornament.

 

I have caught him sitting on tables, on the back of the sofa, going the wrong way down a slide. You name it, he’s had a go.

The latest torment was at meal times. We got rid of our high chair because not only was it in a bit of a food-stained-state but it just wasn’t safe. The little Houdini could get his arms out of the straps and proceed to stand on the tray.

We moved on to a booster seat on a chair. It worked for a while until he started being able to get out of that. He would climb on the table and stand next to my plate, laughing and waiting for me to get him down.

I asked on an internet group of ideas to keep him contained and most people suggested to let him sit on an ordinary chair.

The problem with this is, living in a three story house, he then runs up stairs unaided (since he discovered how to open doors) and I worry about him falling down.

No. I had to think of something else.

 

I Googled inescapable high chairs. I am under no illusion that there are none that will keep G in 100 per cent but anything was worth a try.

Despite the high chair business being worth a small fortune, the name that kept coming up again and again was the Antelop from Ikea. At just £13 I thought, even if it doesn’t work, I haven’t spent a lot so off we trooped to Ikea-with G in the only pushchair that will hold him.

Supermarket trollies are also a no-go-zone as this happens.

 

We are a week in to using the high chair and, while there have been escape attempts, a stern no from mummy, daddy and even Boo seems to have kept him in. So far so good.

I know we are on borrowed time. He is sure to find a way of escaping again.

G is the most delightful and loving boy but at not quite 22 months, he certainly keeps us on our toes.

I bough him a fearless top from Mothercare as it sums our little one up perfectly.

I am not complaining at all. I would rather my little man be spirited. Life is never dull with G.