Pushing Buttons

Let's face it, buttons are fun.  Even as adults it's hard to resist pushing buttons.  Literally and figuratively.  And Punky's learning the joys of both.

She can lock us out of the TV remote in five seconds flat.  We have no clue what she hits to do it, but it can take twenty minutes to fix.

The buttons on the TV itself are hard to resist these days.  If it's off, she turns it on; when it's on, she turns it off...

She grabs the phone whenever she can sneak it and happily dials away...I'm waiting for the hefty phone bill or fine when she calls China or 911 by accident.  And if the phone is out of reach, she pushes the page button on the base and giggles at the shrill beeping across the room.

If I'm talking on the phone she loves to hear the voices talking to her and smiles ear to ear, but no matter how I try to block her she manages to hit a button or two and deafen the person on the line.

The dishwasher buttons are still a source of amusement.  If we keep it locked, she turns it on; if we try to prevent it by keeping it unlocked, she just pulls the door open and tries to crawl in instead.

When she climbs up on the bed in our room, she goes right for the monitor receiver on the headboard.  She turns the volume dial and flips the channel switch in addition to playing with the power button.  We have to remember to check it before relying on it to hear her.

She is learning the concept of cause and effect.  She pushes a button and something happens.  And sometimes that something is fun.  Whether it be a loud noise, a silly sound, a bright light, or a mama that suddenly darts across the room to undo what she just did, she is equally amused and giggles at her accomplishment.

As if that weren't enough, she is also mastering the art of pushing the figurative ones as well.  Lunch on Saturday was a disaster, and no amount of "No! Stop that! Don't do that! Mama said no!" was going to change her behavior in that moment.  

After dumping her entire plate of macaroni and cheese, peas, and carrots all over the highchair tray, and mushing it around into one disgusting mess, and throwing fistfuls all over the dining room carpet, and slicking her hair with handfuls of cheese after she just had a bath the night before...she had her mama frazzled and I was soooo ready for naptime.  She went right from the highchair to the crib.  Cheese hair and all.  I wiped what I could with a baby wipe...the bath could wait.

By the time she woke three hours later, I was refreshed and she was back to her normal, sweet self.  Her hair was a bit crusty but easily fixed in the tub...once I got her to stop pulling the stopper and letting the water out, that is.