I've been feeling very trapped in the house lately. Ben and I are both a little frustrated, being subject to Sam's napping whims. So Thursday when Sam woke up from his afternoon nap waaay earlier than I'd expected, I decided to take the boys to Shoe Carnival. Normally, taking the two of them shopping in any capacity is something I hate and dread, so you can see how anxious I was to get out of the house.
I needed a new pair of work out shoes, so that was my main objective, but of course they were having a "Buy one, get one half off sale" (when are they NOT?), so we spent a little more time in the store than I'd planned. However, despite that, both the boys were very good. Normally Ben likes to run up and down aisles, mess with merchandise and make incoherent noises VERY LOUDLY. But this time he pretty much stayed with me and entertained Sam (double win!).
Since it isn't exactly something I get to say on a daily basis, I praised Ben pretty heavily as we left the store. "You were very good in the store. You didn't run around or yell or mess with things. I really appreciate it."
Without missing a beat Ben says to me, "Can I have a Popsicle when we get home?"
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Friday, July 20, 2012
Ben can swim!
Aside from that first bath, during which he screamed the entire time, Ben has always loved water. He was one of those fearless two year olds going down the water slide by himself and jumping off the side of the pool. A few weeks ago Heath bought him a kick board, because he was showing interest in real swimming. He did great with it, kicking up a storm and moving himself across the pool. Last night he was zipping around and then all of a sudden he ditched the kick board and just... swam. Underwater. All by himself.
Our friend Katie was also at the pool and she said, "I can't believe he can swim!" We said, "We can't, either." The rest of the evening he wanted nothing to do with the kick board and he kept diving into the water and swimming. It was amazing watching him pick up such an important skill, seemingly all of a sudden.
But that's the tricky thing about parenting. It seems like it was just BAM! Suddenly he can swim. But this one is almost all Heath. He spent hours and hours with Ben at the pool, tirelessly catching him as he jumped from the side and moving back every so often, so Ben would have to put in a little more effort. Heath also would take Ben underwater and sometimes let him struggle for a second to get his own footing (which is something Heath is much better at than I am). It doesn't hurt that Ben's 3.5 feet tall, so he can easily stand up by himself in the three foot pool, but Heath helped him to not fear going under and to know how to move his body in the water.
So kudos to Heath on his parenting win!
Our friend Katie was also at the pool and she said, "I can't believe he can swim!" We said, "We can't, either." The rest of the evening he wanted nothing to do with the kick board and he kept diving into the water and swimming. It was amazing watching him pick up such an important skill, seemingly all of a sudden.
But that's the tricky thing about parenting. It seems like it was just BAM! Suddenly he can swim. But this one is almost all Heath. He spent hours and hours with Ben at the pool, tirelessly catching him as he jumped from the side and moving back every so often, so Ben would have to put in a little more effort. Heath also would take Ben underwater and sometimes let him struggle for a second to get his own footing (which is something Heath is much better at than I am). It doesn't hurt that Ben's 3.5 feet tall, so he can easily stand up by himself in the three foot pool, but Heath helped him to not fear going under and to know how to move his body in the water.
So kudos to Heath on his parenting win!
Friday, July 13, 2012
Post Title
I've been neglecting my duties as a blogger lately. I haven't been feeling very chatty and I made the mistake of looking at some posts from when Ben was 6-8 months old, to compare what I was writing about him. The actual reading of the posts wasn't a mistake, because I got to experience the awe all over again of just how much Sam looks like Ben. If it wasn't for the hair colors I wouldn't be able to tell their baby pictures apart. No, the mistake was seeing that I used to post FIVE TO SIX TIMES A WEEK! These days I feel good if I make that many posts in a month. It kind of makes me want to smack my past self for feeling like I had no time for anything.
So, here's a semi-stream of consciousness post about what we've been doing. This week Sam's been teething and it sucks as much as it ever did. The boy who's been sleeping through the night perfectly for months has been waking up at odd hours all week. We really can't get mad at him since, like I said, he's been sleeping through the night perfectly for months and at this point in his life Ben wasn't even sleeping through the night PERIOD, BUT... it's still no fun waking up at 1:15am and then again at 5:45am.
Ben has been in day camp for 5 weeks and today was his last day. He already knew a bunch of the kids there, so he had a lot of fun. Today when I told him it was the last day he asked, "Now does school start?" He was a bit disappointed that he still has a month before school. Even though the idea of him being home all day, every day is daunting now that I'm not used to it, I'm also glad he's not in camp all summer. He obviously loves doing organized activities like that, but I think it's good to just have unorganized (or as unorganized as I can be) fun, too. We'll see how I feel next week.
I'm looking forward to this weekend because I'm unintentionally having a kid-free Saturday. I have Zumba from 9-10am, then I have a glass-blowing class from 12-4pm and then I'm meeting some friends for dinner and a movie at 5:15pm. All three things just fell together on the same day. Normally I don't like a day that's that full, but I've been feeling very trapped in the house lately, so the idea of being out so much is exciting.
Sam isn't crawling yet, but I'm hoping he starts soon. It's funny, because all the things I sort of dreaded with Ben - crawling, walking, climbing, potty training, giving up naps - I'm actually looking forward to with Sam. I've seen how all those milestones made my life easier and I can't wait for my life to be easier again. At least physically. As the physical labor goes down, the mental and emotional labor goes up, but I'm better at that stuff. And while Ben is still in the terrible threes (worse than the twos by a long shot), I keep catching small glimpses that he might start calming down a bit when he's four. He still usually freaks out when he doesn't get his way, but occasionally he'll just accept what I say and move on. And he's starting to be able to delay gratification, which means now it sometimes WORKS when I say, "If you're a good boy in the store you can have a Popsicle when we get home." A little bit of logic is starting to seep into his brain, which is AMAZING. It's natural for an adult to want to use logic with a child, but they just don't get it when they're so young. To be able to utilize it is amazing. And even though he technically "doesn't nap" anymore, he stills put himself down for a nap a few times a week. He'll even tell me, "I'm tired so I'm going to take a nap during Quiet Time." It's actually easier to get him to take a nap now that he "doesn't nap." Sometimes his maturity astounds me, and I try to remember those times when he collapses in a heap of whining and crying because he doesn't want to brush his teeth.
Well, I think that's enough rambling for today. Have a good weekend!
So, here's a semi-stream of consciousness post about what we've been doing. This week Sam's been teething and it sucks as much as it ever did. The boy who's been sleeping through the night perfectly for months has been waking up at odd hours all week. We really can't get mad at him since, like I said, he's been sleeping through the night perfectly for months and at this point in his life Ben wasn't even sleeping through the night PERIOD, BUT... it's still no fun waking up at 1:15am and then again at 5:45am.
Ben has been in day camp for 5 weeks and today was his last day. He already knew a bunch of the kids there, so he had a lot of fun. Today when I told him it was the last day he asked, "Now does school start?" He was a bit disappointed that he still has a month before school. Even though the idea of him being home all day, every day is daunting now that I'm not used to it, I'm also glad he's not in camp all summer. He obviously loves doing organized activities like that, but I think it's good to just have unorganized (or as unorganized as I can be) fun, too. We'll see how I feel next week.
I'm looking forward to this weekend because I'm unintentionally having a kid-free Saturday. I have Zumba from 9-10am, then I have a glass-blowing class from 12-4pm and then I'm meeting some friends for dinner and a movie at 5:15pm. All three things just fell together on the same day. Normally I don't like a day that's that full, but I've been feeling very trapped in the house lately, so the idea of being out so much is exciting.
Sam isn't crawling yet, but I'm hoping he starts soon. It's funny, because all the things I sort of dreaded with Ben - crawling, walking, climbing, potty training, giving up naps - I'm actually looking forward to with Sam. I've seen how all those milestones made my life easier and I can't wait for my life to be easier again. At least physically. As the physical labor goes down, the mental and emotional labor goes up, but I'm better at that stuff. And while Ben is still in the terrible threes (worse than the twos by a long shot), I keep catching small glimpses that he might start calming down a bit when he's four. He still usually freaks out when he doesn't get his way, but occasionally he'll just accept what I say and move on. And he's starting to be able to delay gratification, which means now it sometimes WORKS when I say, "If you're a good boy in the store you can have a Popsicle when we get home." A little bit of logic is starting to seep into his brain, which is AMAZING. It's natural for an adult to want to use logic with a child, but they just don't get it when they're so young. To be able to utilize it is amazing. And even though he technically "doesn't nap" anymore, he stills put himself down for a nap a few times a week. He'll even tell me, "I'm tired so I'm going to take a nap during Quiet Time." It's actually easier to get him to take a nap now that he "doesn't nap." Sometimes his maturity astounds me, and I try to remember those times when he collapses in a heap of whining and crying because he doesn't want to brush his teeth.
Well, I think that's enough rambling for today. Have a good weekend!
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Recent pictures
He doesn't seem too impressed with swinging
Feet are a delicacy in this house
Having fun in his brother's pirate hat
Obligatory baby-with-food-all-over-his-face pic
I love the way the sunlight catches his hair.
I finally got a decent shot of the teeth! Bonus weird face!
Ben's new thing is eating under the table
Sam looks concerned that Ben's armed
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Gender Bending
As I posted a few weeks ago, I painted Ben's toenails at his request. Only minutes after I finished he wistfully said, "I wish we could paint our fingernails, too." Since Uncle Todd and Aunt Sarah's wedding was the next day, and I wasn't sure how they'd like a ring bearer with red fingernails, I told Ben we could do it after the wedding. I wasn't sure he'd remember, but he did, so the next week I painted his fingernails red. A few days after that I was going through my jewelry box and found an anklet I'd forgotten I had, so I put it on. Ben saw that and asked for one, too. I found a bracelet that would fit around his ankle and there we were: Mother and son with painted nails and matching anklets.
This is something that would probably make a lot of people uncomfortable, but I'm actually having the opposite reaction. I'm giddy because my son is asking for things based on his interest and enjoyment. It's another one of those proud mothering moments, because it means that so far I've been able to stick to my morals and not restrict Ben's idea of gender. That's something that's very important to me, because I don't want my children to be restricted by what's between their legs. Sexism is bad for men as well as women, because it puts everyone into these little boxes that don't necessarily have anything to do with what we're really like as individuals. And I'll admit, with Ben's love of trains and cars and construction equipment I was kind of afraid I'd completely lost him to "stereotypical boy land." There's absolutely nothing wrong with those things, but I was concerned that I hadn't done enough to make it clear that he can play with or be whatever he wants. But apparently I was wrong.
It's not like he got his nails painted and suddenly only wanted to play tea party with dolls. No, he got his nails painted and then promptly got them all chipped up running around on the playground like a crazy person. He just wanted pretty nails while he did it. And I've been very pleased with the reactions he's gotten, which have either been positive or none at all. There's been only one negative reaction and that was from a girl in playgroup who said boys can't have painted nails. Ben reported that to me, but didn't seem phased by it and when she said it again in my presence I just simply said that anyone can have their nails painted.
I feel very hipster, liberal feminist for being so proud of this... But I always wonder if my boys are catching on to what's important to me, and it makes me happy to know that in this instance Ben has. That being said, he's not even four yet, so I've had it pretty easy. He's gone to one year of preschool, but it's a very nurturing school and his best friend at school ALSO paints his nails, so we haven't come up against much gender stereotyping yet. And maybe we won't. We live in a pretty liberal area (though in a conservative state), so I doubt too many people would make a stink about a boy's painted nails. We'll see. At this point pretty much all the polish has chipped off and he hasn't asked for more, so perhaps it was just a one-time thing. But at least he knows that if he wants some in the future he can ask.
This is something that would probably make a lot of people uncomfortable, but I'm actually having the opposite reaction. I'm giddy because my son is asking for things based on his interest and enjoyment. It's another one of those proud mothering moments, because it means that so far I've been able to stick to my morals and not restrict Ben's idea of gender. That's something that's very important to me, because I don't want my children to be restricted by what's between their legs. Sexism is bad for men as well as women, because it puts everyone into these little boxes that don't necessarily have anything to do with what we're really like as individuals. And I'll admit, with Ben's love of trains and cars and construction equipment I was kind of afraid I'd completely lost him to "stereotypical boy land." There's absolutely nothing wrong with those things, but I was concerned that I hadn't done enough to make it clear that he can play with or be whatever he wants. But apparently I was wrong.
It's not like he got his nails painted and suddenly only wanted to play tea party with dolls. No, he got his nails painted and then promptly got them all chipped up running around on the playground like a crazy person. He just wanted pretty nails while he did it. And I've been very pleased with the reactions he's gotten, which have either been positive or none at all. There's been only one negative reaction and that was from a girl in playgroup who said boys can't have painted nails. Ben reported that to me, but didn't seem phased by it and when she said it again in my presence I just simply said that anyone can have their nails painted.
I feel very hipster, liberal feminist for being so proud of this... But I always wonder if my boys are catching on to what's important to me, and it makes me happy to know that in this instance Ben has. That being said, he's not even four yet, so I've had it pretty easy. He's gone to one year of preschool, but it's a very nurturing school and his best friend at school ALSO paints his nails, so we haven't come up against much gender stereotyping yet. And maybe we won't. We live in a pretty liberal area (though in a conservative state), so I doubt too many people would make a stink about a boy's painted nails. We'll see. At this point pretty much all the polish has chipped off and he hasn't asked for more, so perhaps it was just a one-time thing. But at least he knows that if he wants some in the future he can ask.
Monday, June 25, 2012
He's discovered the question, "Why?"
Scene: Ben is getting dressed.
Ben: I'm wearing pants today.
Me: No, you need to wear shorts.
Ben: Why?
Me: Because it's hot out.
Ben: Why?
Me: Why what?
Ben: Why is it hot out?
Me: Because it's summer.
Ben: Why?
Me: Why is it summer?
Ben nods. I sigh.
Me: Because at this time of year our side of the planet is tilted toward the sun and the sun is very hot so it makes our area hot.
Ben: Ok.
Ben puts on shorts.
Ben: I'm wearing pants today.
Me: No, you need to wear shorts.
Ben: Why?
Me: Because it's hot out.
Ben: Why?
Me: Why what?
Ben: Why is it hot out?
Me: Because it's summer.
Ben: Why?
Me: Why is it summer?
Ben nods. I sigh.
Me: Because at this time of year our side of the planet is tilted toward the sun and the sun is very hot so it makes our area hot.
Ben: Ok.
Ben puts on shorts.
Friday, June 22, 2012
And now, the exciting conclusion...
Wednesday night we went to a picnic with some of our old classmates. About half the people have kids, so we met in a pavilion right by a playground. Ben was having a great time playing while we were catching up with old friends. Then he ran up and said he had to use the bathroom. I was very glad he did, because sometimes when he's running around with other kids he's too excited and just forgets until it's too late. I happily accompanied him to the bathroom, where he pooped and then we went back to the party.
About five minutes later he came back and said he had to poop again. I was a little frustrated, since I've been trying to express to him that he needs to get ALL the pee and poop out when he uses the toilet, so we don't do this back and forth dance for 20 minutes. However, he was listening to his body, so once again we trudged to the bathroom and once again he pooped.
Five minutes after THAT he was back again. This time I was very frustrated and I said I would take him, but I finished up a conversation before we went. By now I should know better, right? I do anything for my own pleasure at my own peril. And finishing up that conversation meant that BEN POOPED IN HIS PANTS.
WTF, internet? Seriously, WTF? My almost-four-year-old who has NEVER ONCE POOPED IN HIS PANTS in the year he's been potty trained POOPED IN HIS PANTS after having already gone twice in the last 15 minutes.
Am I getting too uppity? What's the lesson here? Why am I being tortured with poop?
So only three days after Sam's poop fireworks (see previous post) there I am, kneeling in a park restroom trying to wipe poop off Ben's underwear. Again I considered it for about two seconds before throwing the underwear away. I've NEVER thrown away clothes because of poop and then I did it twice in a matter of days.
Of course the kicker is that Ben, giddy from going commando in public, pulled down his pants to show another little girl that he didn't have any underwear. Awesome.
About five minutes later he came back and said he had to poop again. I was a little frustrated, since I've been trying to express to him that he needs to get ALL the pee and poop out when he uses the toilet, so we don't do this back and forth dance for 20 minutes. However, he was listening to his body, so once again we trudged to the bathroom and once again he pooped.
Five minutes after THAT he was back again. This time I was very frustrated and I said I would take him, but I finished up a conversation before we went. By now I should know better, right? I do anything for my own pleasure at my own peril. And finishing up that conversation meant that BEN POOPED IN HIS PANTS.
WTF, internet? Seriously, WTF? My almost-four-year-old who has NEVER ONCE POOPED IN HIS PANTS in the year he's been potty trained POOPED IN HIS PANTS after having already gone twice in the last 15 minutes.
Am I getting too uppity? What's the lesson here? Why am I being tortured with poop?
So only three days after Sam's poop fireworks (see previous post) there I am, kneeling in a park restroom trying to wipe poop off Ben's underwear. Again I considered it for about two seconds before throwing the underwear away. I've NEVER thrown away clothes because of poop and then I did it twice in a matter of days.
Of course the kicker is that Ben, giddy from going commando in public, pulled down his pants to show another little girl that he didn't have any underwear. Awesome.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
He better get a 4.0
Sam's definitely an overachiever, for he has topped himself once again in the poop department.
Picture it: Father's Day, 9:00am. We're just sitting down to breakfast at a diner we like and Heath fishes Sam out of his carrier. As he picks Sam up I notice a telling stain dripping down his shorts. STEALTH POOPER STRIKES AGAIN! And even though usually on the weekends I make Heath take care of the poop, it was Father's Day so I threw myself on the grenade.
Wonderfully, the little diner we like so much doesn't have a changing table in the bathroom. *sigh* So I dragged Sam out to the car (holding him at arm's length the whole time) and set up shop in the trunk (thank goodness for SUV's).
The first thing I realized was that there was a lot of poop in his shorts and there was no way I was getting them off without smearing it EVERYWHERE. So I bit the bullet and pulled them off, coating his legs in his own excrement. And of course a 7 month old won't stop kicking his legs just because they're covered in feces, so it was really a lovely sight. I'm sure everyone in the packed parking lot appreciated it.
At this point in the story I want to take a moment to thank my grandmother. She had the foresight to give me a plastic bag dispenser for the car and it REALLY came in handy during this situation. Thanks, Grandma! :)
So, I opened up the diaper and discovered that somehow Sam had managed to poop directly OUT of the diaper. The middle of it wasn't even soiled. He's learned how to defy physics! This does not bode well for me.
I managed to subdue his kicking legs and clean him off. Luckily I'd just put a new package of wipes in the diaper bag, otherwise we'd have lost Russian roulette. I contemplated what to do with the shorts for about two seconds and then I chucked them in the trash. Not worth it.
I think this kid is trying to break my spirit. He's pooping 3-4 times a day and now there's no break. It's just poop all the time. That is what my life is right now. Cleaning up other people's poop (and cat vomit).
And now I think my children are ganging up on me. But that's a story for another day...
(Ooohh, cliff hanger!)
Picture it: Father's Day, 9:00am. We're just sitting down to breakfast at a diner we like and Heath fishes Sam out of his carrier. As he picks Sam up I notice a telling stain dripping down his shorts. STEALTH POOPER STRIKES AGAIN! And even though usually on the weekends I make Heath take care of the poop, it was Father's Day so I threw myself on the grenade.
Wonderfully, the little diner we like so much doesn't have a changing table in the bathroom. *sigh* So I dragged Sam out to the car (holding him at arm's length the whole time) and set up shop in the trunk (thank goodness for SUV's).
The first thing I realized was that there was a lot of poop in his shorts and there was no way I was getting them off without smearing it EVERYWHERE. So I bit the bullet and pulled them off, coating his legs in his own excrement. And of course a 7 month old won't stop kicking his legs just because they're covered in feces, so it was really a lovely sight. I'm sure everyone in the packed parking lot appreciated it.
At this point in the story I want to take a moment to thank my grandmother. She had the foresight to give me a plastic bag dispenser for the car and it REALLY came in handy during this situation. Thanks, Grandma! :)
So, I opened up the diaper and discovered that somehow Sam had managed to poop directly OUT of the diaper. The middle of it wasn't even soiled. He's learned how to defy physics! This does not bode well for me.
I managed to subdue his kicking legs and clean him off. Luckily I'd just put a new package of wipes in the diaper bag, otherwise we'd have lost Russian roulette. I contemplated what to do with the shorts for about two seconds and then I chucked them in the trash. Not worth it.
I think this kid is trying to break my spirit. He's pooping 3-4 times a day and now there's no break. It's just poop all the time. That is what my life is right now. Cleaning up other people's poop (and cat vomit).
And now I think my children are ganging up on me. But that's a story for another day...
(Ooohh, cliff hanger!)
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Personality 101
I've talked a lot about Ben being an extrovert and it's because so much of what makes him happy and comfortable is exactly the opposite of what makes me happy and comfortable. I see an empty park and I sigh with relief. He sees an empty park and doesn't even want to play. It puts us at odds a lot, so it's something that's on my mind.
However, I'm guessing that in a lot of ways, parenting an extroverted child is easier. I never have to goad him to play with other kids. He was never uncomfortable going to school. We rarely have to deal with him being shy. I almost feel like I'm being "racist" against my own people saying that, but it's true.
It will be ironic if I get my wish and Sam is an introvert, because though I know how to be an introvert, I'm sure parenting one is a whole different thing. At least I'll understand when he just wants to sit and read on a bench while Ben's running wild at the playground. But now I also understand why my parents forced me to do a year of soccer and a year of softball and a year of dance. None of those activities really stuck, but they forced me out of my head for a little while.
However, the fact is, I'm not ready to make a call on Sam's introverted vs. extroverted personality. He's definitely calmer than I remember Ben being, and sometimes when he's a little fussy or squirmy he just wants to sit by himself. He plays well on his own for a while, but ultimately he wants to be with us most of the time. So who knows. It's going to be interesting to see what he's like as he gets older, and how he and Ben interact and bounce off each other.
However, I'm guessing that in a lot of ways, parenting an extroverted child is easier. I never have to goad him to play with other kids. He was never uncomfortable going to school. We rarely have to deal with him being shy. I almost feel like I'm being "racist" against my own people saying that, but it's true.
It will be ironic if I get my wish and Sam is an introvert, because though I know how to be an introvert, I'm sure parenting one is a whole different thing. At least I'll understand when he just wants to sit and read on a bench while Ben's running wild at the playground. But now I also understand why my parents forced me to do a year of soccer and a year of softball and a year of dance. None of those activities really stuck, but they forced me out of my head for a little while.
However, the fact is, I'm not ready to make a call on Sam's introverted vs. extroverted personality. He's definitely calmer than I remember Ben being, and sometimes when he's a little fussy or squirmy he just wants to sit by himself. He plays well on his own for a while, but ultimately he wants to be with us most of the time. So who knows. It's going to be interesting to see what he's like as he gets older, and how he and Ben interact and bounce off each other.
Friday, June 8, 2012
It's not a mommy blog if I don't talk about poop once in a while, so fasten your seat belts folks...
My baby has a super power! Sam is... STEALTH POOPER! Able to defecate and disguise the smell until the diaper is opened! Seriously, I'd say 60% of the time I never know Sam's pooped until I start changing his diaper. Have you ever been surprised by poop? It's not fun, in ANY context.
It doesn't help that there's no rhyme or reason to his "schedule." At this age Ben reliably pooped once a day, usually in the morning. Sam won't poop for a week and then it's like the excrement carnival came to town. And it's always at the most inconvenient times. At the playground, in the middle of a movie, on a long walk. Basically any time we're NOT AT HOME. At home we have an almost unlimited number of wet wipes. But, no, Sam wants to play Russian roulette and see if my feeble pack of wipes runs out at the zoo.
The worst was a few weeks ago. We were at a friend's wedding and I took Sam out of his car seat to feed him. I set him on the crisp, white tablecloth and scooted him back a little so he wouldn't tumble off. I'm sure you can see where this is going. I noticed a peculiar stain coming from his butt and sure enough, his diaper had leaked and I'd proceeded to smear it all over the place. So, Heath took Sam to the bathroom while I tried to clean up the mess at the table. I wiped and wiped at it, but it wasn't very effective, so eventually I gave up and just put a plate over it. On a completely unrelated note, I'm suddenly realizing why people might decide not to invite children to their weddings.
UPDATE: That was the worst when I started writing this post yesterday, but Sam has topped himself! The boy is nothing if not ambitious. We went to the pool yesterday afternoon (I can already hear your groans). After swimming I took the boys into the bathroom so Ben could go and I could change Sam into a dry diaper. I neglected to grab the wipes from my bag because Sam had taken a giant poop before we left the house (occasionally he throws me a bone and poops at home), so he couldn't POSSIBLY poop again, right? Horribly, horribly wrong. Do you know what's worse than white-wedding-tablecloth poop? Watered-down-pool poop. So I'm frantically grabbing paper towels, hoping Sam doesn't roll off the changing table and listening to Ben whine at me to pull up his wet swim suit. It must not have been comfortable having his butt wiped with dry paper towels, but Sam just grinned up at me the whole time. I'm sure he was thinking: STEALTH POOPER STRIKES AGAIN!
It doesn't help that there's no rhyme or reason to his "schedule." At this age Ben reliably pooped once a day, usually in the morning. Sam won't poop for a week and then it's like the excrement carnival came to town. And it's always at the most inconvenient times. At the playground, in the middle of a movie, on a long walk. Basically any time we're NOT AT HOME. At home we have an almost unlimited number of wet wipes. But, no, Sam wants to play Russian roulette and see if my feeble pack of wipes runs out at the zoo.
The worst was a few weeks ago. We were at a friend's wedding and I took Sam out of his car seat to feed him. I set him on the crisp, white tablecloth and scooted him back a little so he wouldn't tumble off. I'm sure you can see where this is going. I noticed a peculiar stain coming from his butt and sure enough, his diaper had leaked and I'd proceeded to smear it all over the place. So, Heath took Sam to the bathroom while I tried to clean up the mess at the table. I wiped and wiped at it, but it wasn't very effective, so eventually I gave up and just put a plate over it. On a completely unrelated note, I'm suddenly realizing why people might decide not to invite children to their weddings.
UPDATE: That was the worst when I started writing this post yesterday, but Sam has topped himself! The boy is nothing if not ambitious. We went to the pool yesterday afternoon (I can already hear your groans). After swimming I took the boys into the bathroom so Ben could go and I could change Sam into a dry diaper. I neglected to grab the wipes from my bag because Sam had taken a giant poop before we left the house (occasionally he throws me a bone and poops at home), so he couldn't POSSIBLY poop again, right? Horribly, horribly wrong. Do you know what's worse than white-wedding-tablecloth poop? Watered-down-pool poop. So I'm frantically grabbing paper towels, hoping Sam doesn't roll off the changing table and listening to Ben whine at me to pull up his wet swim suit. It must not have been comfortable having his butt wiped with dry paper towels, but Sam just grinned up at me the whole time. I'm sure he was thinking: STEALTH POOPER STRIKES AGAIN!
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