Monstro, the Baby Monster

My sister coined that phrase, and it really applies to my son.



He loves to be a monster. My back has gone out again from trying to comply with his wishes. Wishes such as holding his hands while he walks up and down the stairs to Michael's office (the garage, really)--over and over and over. Wishes such as wanting to climb over Michael's drums to get to the ones he wants to bang on (Mommy eventually said no to this one and had to endure much screaming). Wishes such as wanting to climb up onto exercise equipment and then jump off onto the living room couch (this was made baby-safe by Mommy). What else does he want to do? Oh, yeah: walk up and down our driveway, which is a pretty steep hill.



He doesn't get tired of this. He also loves to walk up and down the steps in our front yard. Here is a picture of just the last section of steps:



He climbs them fast, too.

Anyway, my back is really bad. It's my lower back, the sacrum area. I can barely walk, let alone lift Simon. My parents are coming over at 5:30 to help after the babysitter goes home. Yes, I use a babysitter to help with Simon, even though I'm at home at the time. If I didn't have help, I wouldn't be able to do my work (I cyber-commute). If my back doesn't get better soon, my life is going to be a disaster. I can't lift Simon out of his crib to nurse at night. I can't move fast enough to keep up with him during the day. This makes for potentially unsafe situations.

Help!