We are quickly learning that having a 2-year old includes lots of drama on a daily basis. There are the tantrums (complete with kicking, screaming, and tears), the battle of wills between parent and child over the simplest tasks (it took me 20 minutes to attempt to get Luke dressed one morning this week before I conceded defeat), and the introduction of discipline (No matter how many parenting books I've read, it still feels like we are making it up as we go along). We have begun to put Luke in "Time Out" when he hits (a common occurrence at this age of testing boundaries). However, Luke will not stay in a designated "Time Out" chair or spot, so one afternoon last week (after dodging blows from an angry toddler), I firmly picked up Luke, placed him in his crib, and said sternly, "Time Out". I closed his bedroom door and went into the other room to take a deep breath. Less than 15 seconds later, I heard a soft thud, followed by the sound of Luke's door opening, and the "pitter patter" of little feet in the hallway.
"Hello, Mommy," my son said as he smirked at me. I stared at Luke, incredulous that he had climbed out of his crib for the first time, so effortlessly, and obviously so proud of himself. I hoped this was an isolated event, until the next morning, when Mark and I watched in the video monitor as Luke woke up, immediately hoisted his legs over the edge of the crib, and lowered himself to the floor.
"GOOD MORNING, MOMMY!" Luke shouted from the upstairs catwalk, as I scrambled out of my own bed downstairs. "BABOO CLIMB OUT OF CRIB!"
Not quite ready to transition Luke to the toddler bed and undergo all of the sleep retraining that is involved with this change, Mark and I have assumed the tactic of manipulation ever since. For the past week and a half, we have repeated to Luke: "Don't climb out of the crib. You don't want to hurt your knees, do you?"
Skinned knees are one of the biggest current dramas in Luke's life. He is constantly falling on the sidewalk, scraping his knees, and is absolutely traumatized by the slightest injury. He closely examines his body for microscopic boo-boos, asking, "Mommy, kiss it and make it better." and needing Elmo band-aids for "healing":

So far, our current strategy seems to be working. Luke still initiates climbing out of the crib, but stops halfway over the edge, and whines, "Be careful- No hurt knees!" This gives us enough time to dart into his room and intercept our little climber before he escapes. I know, there are so many examples of great parenting in this post (safety, verbally tricking our child, etc), but we are just trying to stay one step ahead of the drama.

And overall, Luke is a very sweet, well-behaved, happy child. We're 2 months in, and the "Terrible Twos" really aren't bad at all, but I may be jinxing myself by speaking too soon. Here's a picture of our family before going to church this morning. As you can see, someone has perfected the look of an extremely innocent and charming little man: