Wednesday, March 16, 2016



Freddie is 20 months old.  He has many words: car (“dar!”), da-da, doggy, Charles (“Darl!”), truck, cat, roar, frog, fish, night-night, ribbit, woof, choo-choo, mine (“maaaah!”), and outside, to name a few.  Also “agua.”  He knows how to ask for water, he knows where the clean cups are stored, and he knows that water comes from the tap or the fridge.  We have sippy cups full of water scattered throughout the house.  I couldn’t find any clean OR dirty ones a week or two ago, so I bought several new ones.  Right about the time they made it through the dishwasher, I cleaned underneath the boys’ bunkbed.  Apparently, that space is a cozy nest for the kids; it was filled with sippy cups (all only water, thank God), candy wrappers, flashlights, and books.

Anyhow, Freddie knows how to ask for water, but apparently we weren’t listening very well the other night.  We’re busy, we’re tired, normal brain function is inhibited, especially the “interpreting baby’s insistent cries, whines, and yelps” part, and we missed it.  So Freddie did what he does: he found a toilet, lifted the lid, grabbed a handful of toilet paper, dipped it in the toilet, and then sucked the water out of the paper.


Tony found him in the laundry room doing this, God only knows for how long.  He hauled him up the stairs with the most disgusted look on his face, pulling bits of paper out of Freddie’s mouth.  We are experienced parents who cloth diaper and who have a dog.  We’ve seen our share of disgusting, gross things in the past eight years.  Once, Buster ate some plastic wrap (it probably had some chicken on it) and when he pooped it out, half of it was stuck in his butt.  I had to quash my gag reflex and pull plastic wrap out of my dog’s butt.  Tony has dealt with every monster spider, dead bird, squirrel, or mouse we’ve ever had the pleasure to watch our dog masticate.  The kids have barfed and pooped all over us and the house and the cars.  We’ve done gross in this family, but I honestly can’t remember ever seeing Tony look so horrified as he did when he carried Freddie up the stairs and tried to wash the toilet water out of his mouth.


Now, if I pick up a stray sippy cup of water in the house, I make sure to place a clean, full one back in that room.  I’d rather have full water cups in each room than a child who drinks from the toilet.

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