Was it hard?
Was it runny?
Was it normal?
Did it smell really bad?
Was there a huge mess?
What it discolored?
No one tells you when you're in the beginning stages of falling in love. Nobody wants to shatter the fairytale/"The Notebook" illusion you've created in your mind. They just don't have the gumption to confess to you that one day when your beloved calls you at work, the above may be the extent of your entire conversation. They don't tell you that you'll feel completely normal discussing "it". They wouldn't dream to explain how interested you could be in "it". Nope. These people, these ones who've paved the way before you, who've told you your whole life that "it" is not an acceptable topic of civilized conversation, they never let you in on the secret. One day, you'll have complete dialogs about poop. Ah, how romantic.
C has had some stomach issues off and on this week. I got called to come get him from preschool on Tuesday after he'd gone a few rounds and just wasn't feeling up to snuff. He took a generously long nap, played the night away with his DiDi, and never had another problem. So, back to preschool he went Wednesday. Phone rings at 10:30, and the program director is telling me that it's happened again, big time, and we can't comeback until he's been free of "incident" for 24 hours. I worked myself up enough over what someone might think of me (silly), and actually called her back that afternoon to make sure she knew I wouldn't send a sick child to school on purpose. Panic - it's in the mom book. C spent the afternoon with his Daddy and the whole day yesterday with his DiDi and Nanny. He never had another incident after Wednesday morning. He's back at preschool today, I won't be able to concentrate until we've cleared 11:30 without a phone call.
The other thing no one tells you is how happy a three-foot tall person can make you. Well, they do tell you, they try, but there are no earthly comparisons. We've experienced our first live baseball and football games over the last week. I am so glad that the three of us got to do those things together. I wouldn't trade watching his face in those moments for all the money in the world. I believe last night's high school football game won the excitement contest. It takes a true love of baseball (which I have) to really enjoy watching a live game. Oh, but the football game. The cowbells, the cheerleaders, and the players running through the smoke entering the field. It was precious. Hands down, his favorite parts of each event were the mascots. I can't wait for him to meet Leo and Una at a UNA game.
I generally try to refrain from mushiness of any kind. However, when God has blessed us, we need to exclaim His goodness. I love our little trio. C is at the age where he is SO much fun. He wants to learn and explore everything, he wants to conquer even the smallest task on his own, and he still wants to cuddle and give kisses. We're experiencing a great time in life. I just pray that my memory is not void of these moments when we are in the midst of times that are less than pleasant. You know, like when you're cleaning up a lower-end explosion.
Was it runny?
Was it normal?
Did it smell really bad?
Was there a huge mess?
What it discolored?
No one tells you when you're in the beginning stages of falling in love. Nobody wants to shatter the fairytale/"The Notebook" illusion you've created in your mind. They just don't have the gumption to confess to you that one day when your beloved calls you at work, the above may be the extent of your entire conversation. They don't tell you that you'll feel completely normal discussing "it". They wouldn't dream to explain how interested you could be in "it". Nope. These people, these ones who've paved the way before you, who've told you your whole life that "it" is not an acceptable topic of civilized conversation, they never let you in on the secret. One day, you'll have complete dialogs about poop. Ah, how romantic.
C has had some stomach issues off and on this week. I got called to come get him from preschool on Tuesday after he'd gone a few rounds and just wasn't feeling up to snuff. He took a generously long nap, played the night away with his DiDi, and never had another problem. So, back to preschool he went Wednesday. Phone rings at 10:30, and the program director is telling me that it's happened again, big time, and we can't comeback until he's been free of "incident" for 24 hours. I worked myself up enough over what someone might think of me (silly), and actually called her back that afternoon to make sure she knew I wouldn't send a sick child to school on purpose. Panic - it's in the mom book. C spent the afternoon with his Daddy and the whole day yesterday with his DiDi and Nanny. He never had another incident after Wednesday morning. He's back at preschool today, I won't be able to concentrate until we've cleared 11:30 without a phone call.
The other thing no one tells you is how happy a three-foot tall person can make you. Well, they do tell you, they try, but there are no earthly comparisons. We've experienced our first live baseball and football games over the last week. I am so glad that the three of us got to do those things together. I wouldn't trade watching his face in those moments for all the money in the world. I believe last night's high school football game won the excitement contest. It takes a true love of baseball (which I have) to really enjoy watching a live game. Oh, but the football game. The cowbells, the cheerleaders, and the players running through the smoke entering the field. It was precious. Hands down, his favorite parts of each event were the mascots. I can't wait for him to meet Leo and Una at a UNA game.
I generally try to refrain from mushiness of any kind. However, when God has blessed us, we need to exclaim His goodness. I love our little trio. C is at the age where he is SO much fun. He wants to learn and explore everything, he wants to conquer even the smallest task on his own, and he still wants to cuddle and give kisses. We're experiencing a great time in life. I just pray that my memory is not void of these moments when we are in the midst of times that are less than pleasant. You know, like when you're cleaning up a lower-end explosion.
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