Yesterday I missed my five minutes of writing, so I told myself I’d do two posts today. It’s quarter to midnight, and I have done zero. I’m awesome like that.
Wildling went to a kid’s birthday party today, and she only cried once. It was sudden and inexplicable, the kids were playing a party game, and she just looked at me and started crying. I was able to pick her up and carry her away before it became a full fledged banshee screaming tantrum. This was much better than the last time I took her to a kid’s birthday party, when she refused to participate at all. Will took her to one more recently than me, and she did alright there, except for eating so much sand that she vomited. Yes, that’s right, she ate sand. Won’t eat food, but sand? Yum.
Mellow is getting her second top tooth. She’s getting the front ones, which is good. I still remember when Wildling got her first top tooth. It wasn’t a front tooth, it was off to the side, and I was concerned that maybe it was a front tooth, and they were all just rotated a centimeter, and she was going to end up with a canine in the front of her mouth.
Mellow is also becoming an expert potty pooper. I don’t really believe in the whole ECing system, you know, the one where you train an infant to always go in the potty. I think in order to pull it off you have to be very dedicated to watching your child at all times and really devote yourself to their excretory functions. It only works if you have someone as a full-time caregiver, no babysitters, no breaks. I don’t have that kind of energy or motivation. However, I do try it to a lesser degree and I haven’t changed a poopy diaper in over two months (Will has changed one or two and MIL has changed at least one). I’ve learned to read Mellow’s signals. She always strains and grunts before a bowel movement, so when I see the signs, I grab her and run to the little Baby Bjorn potty. Sometimes I’m wrong and nothing happens, but usually it works. I also put her on it when she wakes up in the morning or after a nap.
This is how you can tell I’m a mom. I have five minutes in which to expend my creative energy and write, and I use it to describe how my baby poops. I used to talk about other more interesting things, I swear.