yesterday i stayed home from work because i was still feeling a little woozy from some sort of combo dehydration/altitude illsnesses i picked up in santa fe. it was a 6-day trip for work, but any picture or story i will share makes it look like a vacation. so i’m mildly embarrassed to say that i needed a day to rest before returning to work. i also needed a day to snuggle with emmit and jasper. that, i proudly admit.
i made the kids an early dinner, very fancy: homemade mac & cheese, a veggie burger, frozen peas and ketchup. as the kids ate, i decided i could sneak away for some…alone time in the bathroom.
emmit came in after a couple minutes and said something about taking off his diaper. we’re of the slow-and-steady-wins-the-race mindset when it comes to potty training and emmit hasn’t shown much sign of being ready. he doesn’t generally tell us when he needs to go or when he’s gone. we can tell because most of the time: a) he “hides” under the dining room table and b) it is not un-stinky. so i didn’t jump up right away when he came in talking about his diaper. i encouraged him to go back to his gourmet dinner. he left for a couple of minutes then returned.
with an excited and curious look on his face, he reached out to show me what appeared to be a rock in his hand.
a brown rock.
he then turned and left the bathroom. it took me a couple seconds to realize that it was poop. then i nearly fell off the toilet trying to stand up to chase after him. tripping over the pants that were around my ankles, i yelled for him to come back. as i ran water in the tub and cleaned him up, i told him as cheerfully as possible, “poop is dirty. don’t ever touch poop.”
several hours later as i tucked him into bed, after many hand-washings, a bath and then more hand-washings, emmit excitedly told me, “I touch poop, mama!”
