Ugh. It's finally happened: Nub and Nib are both officially toddlers. Nub, who is developmentally delayed, just started walking this summer; Nib started walking just before Thanksgiving.
Since that time, Nub climbs up on the back of couches and tables, while Nib has already learned to climb the stairs. My house is starting to look like an obstacle course with strategic parts of the house blocked off by baby gates.
These two pre-verbal tykes wrestle sippy cups back and forth while competing for who gets Mommy's lap. (Grunt. Shriek. Grunt.) If you turn your back on one of them, you're going to have to mount an immediate Search & Rescue team to snatch them from whatever place they were not supposed to be. The bathroom door is never left open, baby locks guard the kitchen cabinets, and the stair gate has been a permanent fixture in the house for the last ten years.
Nub is 3 years old, which is officially my Least Favorite Age for my kids. People talk about the "terrible twos", but really, two year-olds only know how to say "No!", while three year-olds are capable of actual malice and forethought.
When we first started having kids we were so excited to see their first word, their first crawl, their first step. Nowadays I'm thinking: if I can just keep them from being mobile for another two weeks, I'll have an advantage.
Sigh. So that's no longer an option. We long ago moved from the man-to-man child rearing strategy to the "zone defense"; but as long as the two terrible toddlers stage persists, it looks like we'll have to opt for "double coverage".