At the hands of ds2 (17 months) are almost too many to bear.
First, when I was down on my knees wiping up his lunch drippings (ew) on Saturday, he pulled down my pants and bit my left butt cheek. Hard. There are still marks.
Then, I burned myself while icing my back on Saturday night (ok, this one was my fault). Left butt cheek is now also suffering minor frostbite.
Today, he peed all over me at the park. That's what I get for trying to change him standing up.
And tonight, while our neighbors were over celebrating the beginning of the school year with s'mores and banana splits (go big or go home), he ran around the house with my underwear on his head. My period underwear. Clean, but still.
(DH took a picture and later clarified with me that such a photo, while funny, should not be shared on FB. Uh, no, DH. It should not.)
Omg. I'm don't know what lunch drippings are but I'm too scared to ask. You poor thing you! (PS: this was really funny thank you)
It's all the crap he manages to dump on the floor in the 17.3 seconds between when he is finished eating and when he shakes his hands "all done." Sometimes I'm fast enough. Not so, on Saturday.
Omg. I'm don't know what lunch drippings are but I'm too scared to ask. You poor thing you! (PS: this was really funny thank you)
It's all the crap he manages to dump on the floor in the 17.3 seconds between when he is finished eating and when he shakes his hands "all done." Sometimes I'm fast enough. Not so, on Saturday.
Omg. I'm don't know what lunch drippings are but I'm too scared to ask. You poor thing you! (PS: this was really funny thank you)
It's all the crap he manages to dump on the floor in the 17.3 seconds between when he is finished eating and when he shakes his hands "all done." Sometimes I'm fast enough. Not so, on Saturday.
Every time my dog does something gross or is a holy terror I remind myself that I never have to clean up disgusting food from the kid. Get a dog it is worth it for this reason alone.
I think these long weekends exist to prove to me I don't have the patience to be a SAHM. DS is teething and my weekend involved a lot of looking at a ten month old and asking earnestly why he was freaking out like I was going to get an answer.