Warning: This post is potty-heavy. For those of you with no interest in the body functions of a 2 year old, please skip today’s post.Â
Miss R has OFFICIALLY gone poop in the potty! It was miraculous! It was stupendous! It earned her TWO m & m’s!
Those of you still with us will like to know that I have saved you from pictures of this remarkable victory over the potty monster. Daddy wanted to take pictures. I think he’s been watching too much South Park.
She got to wear her Dora underwear around the house and was completely happy. She didn’t even realize what all the fuss was about.
Until about 10 minutes later when she had to go again and missed.
Daddy is at a conference in Grand Rapids, so Mommy and Miss R had a s night. First, we started with some library time. Miss R found the mouse-you know the one who got a cookie and then wanted some milk-and dragged him all around the library showing him her favorite books, coloring with him, and playing with the trains while he sat on the floor watching. Too cute.
This meant that I had some time to knit. Not much, but every bit helps.
Then, we went home and made pita pizzas. We ate them on the living room floor with a blanket so we could have a carpet picnic. We also watched The Wiggles. Wiggly Wiggly.
After dinner, we made some caramel corn. Don’t worry, I know 2 years olds and popcorn don’t mix, but she just helped to pop it on the stove. If you don’t have this book, you totally need to find a copy. It is the best thing for anyone who entertains, snacks, or just gets the munchies. Yummy.
After a bit of coloring and stories, it was time for bed. Ladies night is just not what it used to be.
Look out Keith Haring, we have a new Baby Picasso on our hands.
Today, as is usual on our Mondays, we went to the library. We played with the puzzles, picked out some books and colored. Miss R wanted to color hearts. So as we were coloring hearts, Mommy got a bit distracted about looking for books. Miss R was happily coloring her heart with a wide range of colored pencils and as I peeked over the book I was looking through-something about Really Loud Songs for Toddlers-she continued happily coloring.
Until I heard, “Mommy, I coloring!”
Now, she never really says this unless she has done something new. So I look over my book to see her perched on the chair, backwards, pencil in hand, and beaming at the painted post right behind her chair.
Mommy voice comes on, “uh-oh.”
“Miss R, what are you doing?”
“COLORING!”
Yup, you got it. On the wall. With pencil. Does anyone know how HARD it is to get pencil off the wall? Nearly impossible. Erasers don’t do it.
So, in typical teacher fashion (which goes against EVERYTHING that is Mommy behavior), I said very quietly, “Miss R, I think you need a time out.”
She took it like a good little 2 year old. She sat right down looking at me with eyes that said, yup, Mommy you are absolutely right. What I did was completely wrong and I DO need a time out.
I’m so amazed at how well she processes things. I looked at her after cleaning up our coloring mess and suggested we clean up her mess. She jumped up and said, “yeah.” So we got some paper towels and did our best to clean up the wall. She was such a good girl and scrubbed and scrubbed. She wanted to clean it all up herself.
When we were done, I asked, “What do you think we should do now?” She hung her little blond head and said, “I sorry.” I kid you not. Without any prompting, that’s what she said. I was so proud of her at that moment.
We went up to the librarian, who is not named Marion, but is named Jo, and who Daddy Rimes knows as the mom of one of his friends. I said, we have something to tell you. Miss R hung her little head down even further, looked at me and begged me to pick her up. Jo the librarian was so sweet as Mommy explained what happened. She even said that Miss R was very brave for coming up and telling her. She had a stash of Magic Erasers for this very thing and said not to worry about it.
Long story, but the end was so sweet. Miss R was so sad, and I’ve never really seen her show remorse for something she did. Which really helped the Mommy side of me from becoming completely embarrassed by something my kid did in public.
But in the end, we went home and made waffles for dinner, which is Miss R’s current favorite pick and made up for a messy afternoon by dancing around the living room to the Corrs after dinner.
So, I made a mistake. A very cute, huge mistake. Every now and then, I call my husband “Daddy-man.” As in, “hey there Daddy-man.”
Guess what 2 year olds do? Yup. They are little parrots. So now, Baby R has taken to calling her daddy, Daddy-Man. While I find it completely funny (how could it not?) Daddy has other ideas.
“That’s MY Daddy-Man.” is much worse in his opinion than, “Hi big orange big Daddy.” (which was her last title for Daddy)
Personally, I’m just glad that she started calling me Mom, and I don’t have to go through “Little Mommy” anymore. Don’t get me wrong, being “Little Mommy” was absolutely adorable for, like, the first 10 times. Then it just got old. Fast.
Now we’re onto Mom. Just Mom. Only Mom. She was so darn proud of herself when she discovered she could call me Mom, too. She started with, “Mommy? Mom?” and when I answered to both, it turned into, “Mommy! Mom!”  And she was just so slick with that little lip curl that was trying to hide a smile when she thought she was so clever for coming up with my new epithet.
Don’t worry Daddy-Man, your day is coming. And then you will be Dad and you will miss all those cute names your 2 year old used to call you.
there’s this new Greek restaurant two doors down from where Daddy works in the summer. Daddy has discovered this little place and eats there quite regularly. So it was only inevitable that he would take Baby R in there on one occasion to check out the afternoon snack options.
And there, behind the glass, was some very lovely pistachio baklava. They tried it. They LOVED it. So now, any time we walk past the greek restaurant, we hear a very loud and very pronounced, “Bak-ah-ah?” And how could you resist such a sweet sounding request?
That kid has eaten more “bak-ah-ah” in the last week, than I’ve eaten in 10 years. Thank goodness she has the metabolism of a 2 year old.