The entry that began as a soliloquy to Thursdays... and ended as an Ode to Baby
I'm typing with one hand today because my other one is attached to the arm that is around my little girl who is currently going through my purse while singing "tunkl tunkl ah ah stah, oh oh ah ah uht ooo aahhhh." For those of you who don't speak babyese, those are the first two lines of "Twinkle, twinkle little star."
I am really enjoying these Thursdays off. I am determined that I WILL MAKE myself take this day every week.... because moments like this don't happen every day... because five minutes listening to that little voice does more for my spirit than a week at the beach or a weekend in the mountains.
Of course...30 seconds after typing that last paragraph, my darling sweetheart angel baby promptly crawled off the couch with her babydoll, toddled into the bathroom, and dunked her baby in the toilet.
As I pull the poor flushed baby out of the toilet while simultaneously drying the puddle in the floor with my socks and grabbing my baby's hands so she doesn't stick her toilet-water-drenched fingers in her mouth, she screaming with tear-filled eyes, "BAAAAAAAAAT!! BAAAAAAAAT!!!!"
Bath.
She wants to give her baby a bath - just like the one CJ herself just received about 15 minutes ago - and just like the one she's about to receive again so that the toilet water germs get washed off of every inch of her body.
As for the babydoll - I don't have high hopes. I will attempt to wash her in the washing machine, but I have a feeling that a trip to Toys'R'Us is in our near future.
In other baby bathroom news, I believe we are going to go get a potty-training toilet this weekend. CJ is beginning to recognize when she has a dirty diaper. In the last couple days, she has brought me numerous clean diapers while saying, "Dinky. Dinky, mama."
That means, "My diaper is stinky. Will you please change me?"
So, I think we're ready to at least make her familiar with the potty-training tools. Yup. Yup. Yup.
I suppose I should go to the library too and check out some books. I really have no idea how to explain to an 18-month-old that this white porcelain tank is not a miniature bath for her various baby dolls, but rather... well... you get the idea.
Hm.
Anyways.
I should probably go now. I just saw her walk into her bedroom with my makeup bag.
I can think of numerous scenarios that might present themselves as I follow her...
How many can you think of?