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Browsing Tag: toddler

See What I Did There

I’m in my office, sorting through some manuscript notes. Cian walks in with a handful of toy dinosaurs, dumps them onto the carpet, and sidles up beside me, draping himself against my side in the way little children do, so that he’s kind of Velcro’d against me, one whole seam of his body zipped up against mine.“What are you doo-ing?” he asks. His hand is resting on my shoulder and he looks at my computer. “I’m working, buddy,” I answer. “But where’s Daddy?” “Daddy’s in his office. He’s working, too.” “But he can’t work. Or you can’t work. You have to work one at a time, not to-gev-er.” “I understand, Key, but sometimes we both have to work at the same time.” I worry for a second, concerned that he’s going to have a hard time adjusting to our new, back-to-the-usual routine. It’s enough to make me completely lose my concentration.I move out to the deck. It&#8217…

Sick Day

He ‘s been fighting a cold for over a week now, along with both sisters, on and off. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t tell where one child’s infection ends and another’s allergies begin. I took both him and Quinlan to the pediatrician this morning, certain they had sinus infections. Both were declared healthy and well, so one child got dropped off at school just in time for recess, and the other and I stopped by a local cafe on the way home. The sick boy requested carrot cake at 11 o’clock in the morning, and carrot cake he got. He’s beside me at home now, under a blanket, playing with a toy stethoscope while I catch up with writing work on my laptop. I finished most of that carrot cake, of course. He didn’t want more than the tiniest of bites. Turns out he just wanted an excuse to sit down at a table for a while and hang out with me. I didn’t mind at all…

Thanks for That, Buddy

Last week, I asked Cian before lunch if he had to use the bathroom. “No,” he said. And since he was wearing pull-ups, and since I’ve lost my go-get-’em-let’s-wear-underpants motivation of potty training, I let it slide. “Are you sure?” I just said. He nodded, and I let it go. I know, lazy. But potty training breaks me down, man. It breaks me down. After lunch, I asked Cian to use the bathroom. He walked in himself this time while I cleared the table, and two seconds later I heard, “Oh, Mom! It’s on the stoooool!” I found him with one leg up in the air, avoiding the wet spot on the seat. His private parts were nowhere near where they were supposed to be, and he’d overshot and made it only halfway into the kid potty’s bowl. The other half had landed–Hallelujah! Praise for small miracles!–in his training pants. Other than that–and this is the absolute, best, it’s-so-worth-it part–he’d been completely…