Morning

This morning, I was working on some homework, which was working out surprisingly well because Eddie was being good! He was sitting by his toy table, happily crinkling something.

After he had been doing this for quite a while, it occurred to me to wonder what he was crinkling. I went over and saw him in the middle of a mysterious white mound. When he saw me coming, he made a break for it and started crying—meaning either "I'm in trouble" or "Mean Daddy doesn't let me have any fun," I think. He had gotten a pack of wipes out of the diaper bag and was liberating them.

I assured Eddie that he wasn't in trouble, and he stopped crying. The wipes couldn't really be put back into the pack, so I decided to put them into a zip-lock bag. While I was in the kitchen rummaging around for a bag, Eddie went to the now-open computer to help me with my homework. When I got over, I found that he had somehow opened Paintbrush—a program I barely knew we had—and was tapping away at keys.

I removed Eddie from the computer and went into the nursery to start folding up wipes to fit into the bag. Eddie followed, and turned his humidifier way up so that it looked like a fog machine. I guess he wanted to make sure the wipes didn't dry out. Then he knocked his sound machine off the windowsill and started poking it. I didn't want him to turn on the projector and blind himself (which he is intent upon doing: all day long he turns on lamps so that he can stare into the bulb, and tries to look into the laser on the bottom of the mouse) so I took it away. Then he knocked it down again.

Nap time!