We bought Ms. BossOfEverything an inflatable bouncer last year for her birthday. We set it up in her Dada's office because that was where we had space. (Also, because Dada's room is full of pestilence and doom, so we wanted her to have a safe place to play.)
Last August, when her brother was born, we had to take it down because I needed that downstairs space to set up a temporary bedroom to make it easier to care for her brother.
We decided to put the bouncer back up yesterday, because, frankly she is a psycho and needs another outlet for entertainment that doesn't involve wrestling her 9 month old brother, crawling on the counters or jumping Mama like a spider monkey.
She has now declared that the bouncer is her home. Whenever she gets mad at us, she says, "I wanna go home." Fine then. Go. She runs to her bouncer.
It's fun until she actually has to sit in time-out. She screeches the whole time about wanting to go home. It's also fun until she decides that her brother needs to be "home". She usually remedies his lack of home occupation by grabbing him by his head and neck and trying to drag him in there. "C'mon baby brother! C'mon! Go home!" Yeah, home to Broken Neckville.
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