Anatomy
While I found both of these events incredibly hilarious and had to force myself to hold my emotion in, I am also a little sad!
Bubby earned a flashlight for going poo poo in the potty. Seriously, it's what he wanted from WalMart...a 94 cent flashlight. Who am I to deny the boy his amusement? Our only rule is that he can't shine it in his eyes or anyone else's eyes. Apparently I should've made a couple more rules. I was putting his diaper on him at bedtime last night while he messed with his flashlight.
"Mommyyyyyy! My hand is red! Look at m'hand!" He squealed. He thinks it's very cool to hold the light up to his palm and see the colors change.
"Wow! That's fun!" I replied, distracted by Anneke complaining to me that she was not going to be able to sleep because I hadn't trimmed her nail on her forefinger. Heaven forbid.
"Mommy! This is my pee pee," Bubby mumbled. I still hadn't velcroed his diaper closed, and now he was sitting up with his diaper half on/half off. The flashlight was smushed into his...well, his "unit" (to quote Andy G.) :o) At this point, I had to turn my head and hold my breath so that I didn't lose it. When I finally had regained composure (he had been describing his pee pee to me the whole time), I turned back around to face him. The exploration hadn't ended, though.
"Mommy! This is the hole that my pee pee comes out of!" The boy was in awe. I am so sad now, because I fear that his love affair with his "unit" has begun, and there will be nothing that I can do to quell it now. I knew this day would come. *sniff, sniff*
Well, today Bub and I had to go to the allergist to get him tested for a bazillion irritants. Apparently the only thing that sets him off is Mesquite trees. I don't even know what a Mesquite tree looks like. Whatever. He has to be on nose spray and a breathing machine for a month, so needless to say...we are excited at our house. Anyways, after his doctor appointment I lifted him up into his carseat. While I was buckling him in, he took his forefinger and poked my...well, we call it a boob at our house. I thought maybe he'd done it on accident, except that when I looked up at him he was staring at my boobs.
And then he poked the other one.
"What are you doing, Son?"
"Mommy? Why doesn't the baby eat out of these anymore?" (poke, poke, poke)
Good, Son. For the rest of your growing years, you just associate boobs with breastfeeding and life with go much easier for you. Amen, Lord. Amen. Amen Amen Amen Amen Amen
"Well, because she got bigger, and she knows how to drink out of the bottle now. Kind of like how you drink out of a sippy cup now instead of a bottle."
"Oh. Are we going to get ice cream now?"
Anatomy & Physiology 101 has concluded. There are no more sessions available. At least not for many, many years.
Bubby earned a flashlight for going poo poo in the potty. Seriously, it's what he wanted from WalMart...a 94 cent flashlight. Who am I to deny the boy his amusement? Our only rule is that he can't shine it in his eyes or anyone else's eyes. Apparently I should've made a couple more rules. I was putting his diaper on him at bedtime last night while he messed with his flashlight.
"Mommyyyyyy! My hand is red! Look at m'hand!" He squealed. He thinks it's very cool to hold the light up to his palm and see the colors change.
"Wow! That's fun!" I replied, distracted by Anneke complaining to me that she was not going to be able to sleep because I hadn't trimmed her nail on her forefinger. Heaven forbid.
"Mommy! This is my pee pee," Bubby mumbled. I still hadn't velcroed his diaper closed, and now he was sitting up with his diaper half on/half off. The flashlight was smushed into his...well, his "unit" (to quote Andy G.) :o) At this point, I had to turn my head and hold my breath so that I didn't lose it. When I finally had regained composure (he had been describing his pee pee to me the whole time), I turned back around to face him. The exploration hadn't ended, though.
"Mommy! This is the hole that my pee pee comes out of!" The boy was in awe. I am so sad now, because I fear that his love affair with his "unit" has begun, and there will be nothing that I can do to quell it now. I knew this day would come. *sniff, sniff*
Well, today Bub and I had to go to the allergist to get him tested for a bazillion irritants. Apparently the only thing that sets him off is Mesquite trees. I don't even know what a Mesquite tree looks like. Whatever. He has to be on nose spray and a breathing machine for a month, so needless to say...we are excited at our house. Anyways, after his doctor appointment I lifted him up into his carseat. While I was buckling him in, he took his forefinger and poked my...well, we call it a boob at our house. I thought maybe he'd done it on accident, except that when I looked up at him he was staring at my boobs.
And then he poked the other one.
"What are you doing, Son?"
"Mommy? Why doesn't the baby eat out of these anymore?" (poke, poke, poke)
Good, Son. For the rest of your growing years, you just associate boobs with breastfeeding and life with go much easier for you. Amen, Lord. Amen. Amen Amen Amen Amen Amen
"Well, because she got bigger, and she knows how to drink out of the bottle now. Kind of like how you drink out of a sippy cup now instead of a bottle."
"Oh. Are we going to get ice cream now?"
Anatomy & Physiology 101 has concluded. There are no more sessions available. At least not for many, many years.

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