like a platter full of potato skins
Just a quickie entry, because I'm kind of fried. We've been doing new house things all week after school, and since this is the most interesting and useful part of my day, I'm having trouble focussing on anything else. Both Blake and the Boy have been loud sleepers this week, so what little sleep I get is threaded through with inexplicable screams (Blake) and an orchestra of snores (the Boy). During my lessons I've been phoning it in so hard that I'm surprised my students can't hear the dial tone.
But there is one overwhelmingly, unmitigatedly positive development this week: Blake is going to the potty by himself. I told him a few weeks ago that there would be no more diapers at the new house, and he seems to have taken this to heart because he has seen fit to apply all of the readiness he has been developing over the past year. He's gone from a boy who would stay dry if we took his pants off, and then only with us; to a boy who drops his sandwich to run to the bathroom, a boy who demands the potty at his play school. It helps that both of our new toilets are so low that he can pee standing up, which he, like every male, thinks is the coolest thing ever discovered.
I don't know how it finally happened, but the Blake is diaper-free. Now to dry up his nights…and avoid the irony lightning stroke that my bragging has attracted.
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Don't make me send out the Blake. He doesn't listen to *anyone.*