As Gideon's mother, it's my responsibility to make his New Year's resolutions until he's old enough to do so himself.
His resolution for 2009: Stop getting into and busting shit.
Today he cut his face shaving. He found a disposable razor in a vanity drawer and I guess he wanted his skin to be smooth for all the kissing tonight. Yesterday he cut his hair (again) and applied my cream-based foundation over his snot-dried face. He wrote all over the dining room high board with a black sharpie. Stuck googly-eye stickers to the living room coffee table. Spilled macaroni cheese powder all over the kitchen counter. Smeared peanut butter all over the sink. That's just the last 48 hours. I don't have a box big enough to put him in anymore. He's figured out the combination lock on the dungeon. I don't know what else to do other than cease sleeping, going to the bathroom and showering.
Speaking of New Years, we're not leaving the house tonight. Long ago I came to the conclusion that only cheese-dicks go out on New Years. We're not cheese-dicks.