Graphic Tales and Mixed Blessings

1. Trombone likes to poop on the potty. No! I am not complaining. But he likes to poop on the potty so much that he won’t leave it until the poop comes.

I see why people put this off, this potty training thing. On the one hand, yes, I know it can take time to poop. But on the other, he is smart enough to know that after potty comes nap. And before potty comes 3 books but if I read to him while he’s on the potty he gets 5, 6, 7 books. Half the time the poop comes. The other half I read books for 30 minutes when I could be snacking on bonbons. Who’s the sucker. Adult diapers here we come.

2. Fresco has just learned to clap his hands. He claps when you ask him to. He claps when you sing “If you’re happy and you know it…” and he claps spontaneously when he is happy. (He even clapped when Trombone finally pooped on the potty after 15 minutes of “I know it’ll be here any minute…”) It is pretty adorable.

Just now I was helping him get to sleep, something that is taking more and more time and strength these days. I switched gears and instead of pinning his arms down and keeping the soother in his mouth with my elbow, I put him up against my shoulder, patted his back and started humming a lullaby. He pulled back to look at me, wrested his hands from against my chest and started applauding.

3. As you who read here often already know, Trombone likes to sing. He used to be able to carry a tune. Today all he will sing is “Jingle Bells” and “Nonsense Words to the Tune of Jingle Bells” and his own version of “Jingle Bell Rock” that goes, “Jingle bell jingle bell jingle bell RIGHT jingle bell jingle bell jingle bell RIGHT jingle bell jingle bell…”

Well, you get the idea. The first few times I tried correcting him, but most of you know that correcting a 2.5 year old is folly.

I don’t know if he is imagining a sleigh ride going in squares or if he is stating a political preference or if he has a speech impediment involving the substitution of the word RIGHT for ROCK in which case I can’t wait until he forms that Queen cover band (We will / we will / RIGHT YOU!) and frankly I don’t much care. It is cold, windy and snowy outside, we are inside thinking about how I was going to get the snow tires put on the car last week, the baby keeps crawling into the fireplace and I just want to not hear the tuneless, loud voice of my firstborn chanting nonsense at me until I shatter into tiny pieces. I do not think that is so much to ask.

Whenever Trombone does this nonsense chanting / singing I am reminded of (and comforted by) this post by the hilarious Mr. Isoglossia, who also does the most wonderful (and sometimes chilling, considering I am approximately 2 years behind him with my own dear boyspawn) monthly reports to his two boys.

Happy note, see? Leaving you on a happy note. Alrighty.