I just left my blog up for a sec, and Mark snuck on and wrote an entire post about poop. Then published it. Then I deleted it, but for a moment, it existed.
My son demanded that he hold his teddy bear in the bathtub tonight. So now it’s all soggy. But he’s happy.
Also, Jake has this cute little Kylo Ren towel that he wears (it has a hood) after his baths. Well, yesterday when I was gone, Mark let him wander around in his towel a little too long after his bath, and Jake peed on the floor. But Mark didn’t realize this until he looked over and saw Jake trying to wipe up his mess with a wipe. Like, he peed on the floor, thought to himself in his little baby brain “Oh, I made a mess. I’ll clean it up.” and he did. He scrubbed away like a good little boy.
He probably took note of the times he’s watched me clean up cat puke. Which is unfortunately pretty often.
I love him so much it hurts.
Mark just said in the background “I can’t believe you didn’t keep my post. It was so well written. My favorite part was [insert poop description].”
You know, there was a time when I wouldn’t say the word “poop.” It just wasn’t lady-like. Plus, considering I never have, it just felt like such a foreign concept to me. My food just goes right to my curves, as it does for all ladies.
But now poop is just everywhere all the time. Husband, baby, cats, it’s just errywhere.
So that’s family life I guess. We’re gonna go put Jake to bed. And then I should probably go write songs or something but it’s Friday night, so we’re probably just gonna go watch Psych.