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Queen Mother

We left off yesterday as V was handing me a diaper full of a giant poo that he had just created. Such a thoughtful little boy.

And as I drove off to work after passing it on to M, all I could think about was urine, feces and pants full of both.

Oh, and then pleasant things like how V is a big boy now and how I GUESS I (we) need to make the move to the big boy pants. And this was a tough one! How to you know when they are ready for no more diapers and just training pants?

I guess when they hand the diaper to you, that’s a good sign. And so it was. Now our house is full of Toy Story 3 potty paraphernalia. And to be honest? It is all rather exhausting. Especially since we are on uncertain, shakey ground in terms of potty experience.

Let’s face it. All we have had is one big poo in the potty. And then 2 removed diapers. Oh, and then a refusal to be diapered yesterday and a firm vocalization to wear ‘Diego’ (that’s who is on the training pants). Not that he knows who Diego is. Since we never watch that show. Somehow he just knows. It’s like osmosis or something..

But that’s not much to go on. And so I am making it all up (and backing it up with things my Joa and my Shannon have told me). Those girls know where it’s at.

Tonight we were extremely excited about going potty and taking a bath. At least until I took off his diaper and saw the WORST diaper rash EVER.

Oh great.

And so bath? Not so much. I left the experience drenched. It was like I had been on a water ride at one of the parks.

And diaper? No. Training pants? Also no. Regardless, I Desitined that butt down and pulled one up. Red painful-looking bum? Check!!

Today there was no diapers removed and handed to a parent. Nothing was removed at all actually. In fact, it was just a normal awful day with a two year old. He woke up at 2:30 and wouldn’t go back to sleep. And he just wanted Mummy and Daddy’s bed. And then just wanted to make pig noises in our bed. Not sleep at all. That would have been logical.

So he thrashed and we slept lightly. He woke up and so did we. He made pig noises and we groaned. He talked to Chewie and we stuck our fingers in our ears. He said ‘Mummy snuggles  and Mummy snuggled him within an inch of his life. And then?

Mummy said, “Daddy. Wake up. I have to go to work in 3 hours and I need some sleep”.

Daddy, “Alright Vincent, mummy’s kicking us out, lets go sleep in the little bed.”

Vincent, “Little bed ok.”

And then Mummy slept. And then Mummy woke up at 6 am and went running. This was quite important. Oh yeah… and then Mummy was tired all day long because of a fractured night.

But would you like to see what always makes it better? And this always does. Seriously.

Having ones small child throw oneself at you while shouting ‘MUMMY! Mummy Mum. Mummy! Mum. Mummy’. And all of this while surprising him at a restaurant this evening.

I felt like I was Queen of the Universe.

Love you Vincent…

xoxo

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Listed

It’s always interesting when you learn things about yourself through your spouse and children. Isn’t it?

The last time my Mum was visiting, she revealed to M that I had always had this funny obsession with pre-planning my meals. When I was little, I would literally eat dinner and plan the next meal while swallowing. and saying things like “This is delicious, but you know what would be awesome next time?”

M laughed so hard when my mother shared that lovely little family tid-bit with him.  I don’t think it was much of a surprise to him though, but apparently quite funny. We all know I have my little quirks. (If you aren’t familiar with them, they are as follows: cleaning too much, too much planning, poor arguing skills [quite embarrassing actually], making lists, making lists of the lists I have just made… obsess much?)

M has now started saying things to me at 6:30 am like “Jame, I really can’t even think about food right now” “Jame, I’m eating eggs, can we not discuss dinner?” “Jame. Jaaaaaaaaaame. Stop.” “Jame, takeout?” Me: “Ok! But what kind of takeout? How do you feel about Thai?” etc etc.

I have stopped talking about it which, I admit, is really hard for me. I need to talk about dinner with someone. Anyone. Ok, I can think of at least 1 person I would never discuss it with, probably because I would only hear about all of the dinners she has made for the past 25 years and their pros and cons. Ah!! Makes me crazy.

Anyways…

So last week, during one of my spin class nights, M put V to bed. This time he climbed in with him. We are about 2 or 3 weeks in to “big boy bed” territory. This means that every night is an adventure. Usually we try to lie in bed with him for a few minutes before ‘night nights’. He has taken to saying to me “Mumma too? Mumma too?!?!” when we head to bed, wanting me to lie with him. If he would not wiggle,I would probably be sleeping there every single night.

Alas, he wiggles. Too much energy. Can’t keep himself still. Even during sleep.

That particular night, he elected to try a new approach to bedtime. No books, he just crawled into bed and told him stories. And apparently they “had a chat”. Per Daddy.

I guess during that chat, V started chatting back. And apparently this is what he said:

“Eggs?”

Waffles?””Apples?”

“Bananas?”

“Pancakes?”

“Cheese?” “Juice?” “Milk?”

He was planning breakfast.

It warmed my heart to hear it. After almost 2 years of looking at my little man and seeing pretty much nothing that reflected me (just a clone of Daddy), my genetic code is showing!

Yes child, plan your breakfasts, just like your Mumma… I will always, with love, support your planning…

xoxo Mumma (and a.m.)

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