Climbing onward

It's been one of those nights when, no matter what I do, Timothy cries and won't go to sleep. He only slept for an hour-and-a-half this afternoon, or less even, so I know he's tired. And there he is in his Pack 'n Play, just screaming his head off. What am I doing wrong?

Anyway, Timothy started climbing today. My first clue was seeing him on top of my voltage stabiliser at work, playing with the windowpanes. I knew he could fall off, but it's only 10 inches off the ground, so I wasn't really worried. But five minutes later, I heard something heavy fall to the floor, turned, and saw my little boy standing on top of a box that's at least 18" off the floor, pulling stuff off my filing cabinet that's probably 4' or 5' high. I snatched him down off the box and scolded him, but really, it's I who have to be more careful!

So when we came home, Timothy started climbing on the living room chairs and the couch. I wouldn't worry so much about that if the floor of my parents' house--where we've been housesitting for three weeks--weren't cement. Oh sure, they have a rug in the living room area, but there's no pad beneath it, so it still hurts when you knock your head against the ground. He's actually learning to climb down as well as climb up, which is a relief. I figured he'd get up and then not know how to get down for awhile yet. So it's nice that at least half the time, he's able to get down feet-first.

Next thing I know, he'll be running around, climbing trees, bringing home scraped knees and black eyes. Am I really cut out to raise a boy??