Confession: I have become a Gym Junkie. I love it. Absolutely, love it. I try to go a few times a week and at least once, I bring the boys with me to play in the Kids' Club. They have a policy there, that any child under 18 months counts as three kids (as they're more demanding for hands-on attention), and only 10 kids are allowed in the Club at a time. I have, on occasion, had to wait a few minutes for some children to get picked up before I could leave Matthew and Zachary since combined, my two children are the equivalent of four. Needless-to-say, three-kids-worth-Zach rules the joint. Now, that he's thoroughly mobile (AND at eight months old, climbing already), he really does count as three children. What I don't understand is why the childcare attendants at the Kids' Club don't understand that and come home with me to help out. How can they just send release those 2 (but really 4) children into the world with ME everyday and assume that I've got what it takes to keep Zachary from: climbing into a laundry hamper basket (it's happened already), nearly doing a complete headstand on to Matthew's Elmo sofa (been there, done that), getting stuck under the over-turned bouncy seat (totally his own fault), playing with lamp cords (almost a daily habit -- the kid is FAST. Turn your back for a second and he's exactly where you don't want him to be!), sucking on the bathroom rug (grosses me out more than I can even begin to explain), attempting (and thankfully getting too frustrated to venture on) to climb the stairs, partially eating a WRAPPED chocolate that Matthew gave him (both boys take after Mommy in the chocolaholic category...an intervention is in order), and whacking his noggin' numerous times a day on any possible hard, bluntish object (be it toy, furniture, wall, etc.). Yes, apparently I don't have what it takes to keep our busy Zachary safe, so I'm praying that he's got a guardian angel with as much energy as he does, and I'm thinking it's time to invest in a helmet and full-body padded suit....for me.