I have spent the last few days coming to terms with the fact that Ryan is no longer the precious little pee-baby I once knew.
Four days ago:
He emptied around 30 sweaters from my closet and rolled around in them. Little pieces of banana and cheerios where embedded in every "hand-wash only" piece of clothing.
Three days ago:
He saw that I had started a bath. I left the room for 4.79 seconds and when I came back, he had jumped in..... completely dressed.
I was about to shower anyway, so I stripped down and joined him. I was sitting in the tub, peeling his clothes off when I smelt pee.
Oops! I must have forgotten that he loves to pee and probably had at least 1/2 - 1 full cup of urine in his diaper..... Since the diaper was fully submerged in the water all the baby piss was seeping through his diaper into the bath water I was playing in.
Luckily for me, I remembered reading somewhere that swimming in baby urine is good for the skin.
Two days ago:
Pee-baby showcased his physical dexterity by skillfully climbing out of his crib and waking me up with an evil/proud giggle and a 2-handed slap in the face. Instead of waking up and caring for my child, I put a pillow over my head and let him run wild through the house for an hour.
When I did drag my listless body out of bed, I was pleased to discover that Pee-Toddler had only eaten 3 entire tubes of chapstick.
Only after I video taped him crawling out did I realize my mistake in encouraging his anti-authority behavior.
Now I have to figure out a new method of caging him up at night.
And finally, yesterday:
I was in the office pretending to work hard when Pee-Toddler came in and tried to crawl on my lap.
I pushed him off asap because I smelt something foul.
Ryan was covered in poop.
He had taken off all of his clothes and pinched a huge loaf in his diaper.
After completing his #2, he stuck his right hand down the back of his diaper, grabbed some soft serve and wiped it onto his belly. With a continuous motion he drug his hand up over his face and onto his hair.
(Though I was not an actual eye-witness to the poop incident, I am pretty sure this is exactly what happened given the evidence presented.)
I HATE poop, so no, I didn't take a picture. I was too busy hating my life.
Immediately after I threw Ryan in the bath (yep, the same bath he made pee-soup in a couple day before) I had to go on a hunt for any fece(s) he may have distributed around the house. I didn't find any smears besides the ones on Ryan's body, but for the rest of the day I was suspicious.
I felt betrayed by my own flesh and blood.
This was just another situation where I was so offended that I am not going to go to church for at least two weeks.
Only someone who loves poop a lot would wipe it in their own hair.
From here on out, I reserve the right to refer to Cryin' Ryan as "Poop-hands" where I see fit.
seriously you guys, amen.
