And on the Docket Today: Destroying One of my Daughter's Dreams

I hurt my back about a week ago... again.  Well, I don't think I rehurniated the disk or anything, but I tweaked it (not to be confused with twerked).  So, I've spent the better part of the last week on my back playing Diablo III on my Xbox (my wife got it for me, you should be jealous).

It's close to being back to normal (hence, why I'm able to blog), but I was still on my back playing this afternoon while my daughter watched Barney on the Kindle.  While watching a loading screen I looked over and saw June standing with her toes at the edge of the Kindle with her fingers grabbing those toes.  This brought on  a question I ask her at least once a day, "June, what are you doing?"

"I'm going to jump into the book.  I'm going to jump into Barney."

"No, no.  June, it's super fun to see people jump into books on shows, but if you do this all you will do is break the Kindle.  Please don't try it."

She looked befuddled.  It was obvious she'd seen this several times performed by various people.  Why couldn't she do it?  "Okay."

"Sorry.  Do you want to check the fire with me?"

"Yeah!"

I'm sure it won't destroy her forever, but I wish I was one of those super creative dads who knew how to make her dream real without destroying a tablet in the process.  As it turns out, all I did was reinforce her lover for building fires...

I messed up bad today, didn't I?

P.S.

As I wrote this I heard a clatter in the kitchen and my wife yelling, "No June, those are Grandma's knives!  We don't touch knives!"

So there's your piece of sage advice from my wife today:  We don't touch knives.

It Smells Like... Poop

We've been potty training June for a while now.  Months, in fact.  We've tried a few different approaches with varying levels of success and a couple of months ago things were going well.  Did she still pee in her diaper?  Yeah, she did, but she didn't poop in them anymore.

And this was great with us.  Did we want her to pee in the toilet?  Absolutely, but if she didn't feel it, she didn't feel it.  We don't wan to put expectations on her that she literally can't live up to, that's not fun for anyone.  Along with that, I don't mind the peed in diapers.  Easy off.  Easy in the garbage.  No real smell.  I can change those all day long.

But the poop ones, those are a different story.  You have to wipe a bunch and it smells awful, and when she started pooping on the toilet I was a happy guy.

Well, I was not so happy yesterday.  I was near her and smelled a horrible smell.  Yep, she'd went poop in her diaper.  As I changed her we had a long talk about how I don't like cleaning up poop, and how it smells yucky, and how if she did it again she was going to time-out.

As sure as the sun sets in the west, she pooped in her diaper again today.  So, she got time-out, and I had the brilliant idea to let her smell her diaper so she could smell what I smelled every time I changed a stinky one.  Her reaction:  Big inhale, "It smells like... poop.  Yummy." The giggle that followed let me know I'd been gotten the best of.  The next 16 years are going to be hard.  Pray for me.

Olly Olly Oxen Free

I'm sitting at the computer checking my facebook when I look up to see June (my daughter) climbing off her barstool.  "What are you doing?"

No answer.  She continues to walk through the kitchen to hide in a little nook in front of the pantry.  "Are you hiding?  If you're hiding and Dad finds you he'll get you with tickles."

No answer.  Okay, so this is a pretty regular game for us.  June really likes hiding, well, let me be more honest, she likes people looking for her and calling her name and has found that hiding gives her that.  Up to this point, we've been lucky.  She's not particularly good at finding good spots.  The scary part is she is SUPER good at holding very, very still and being very, very quiet.  One day she'll find the good spots and we'll be in trouble.

After waiting a while I finally go over to the nook.  There she sits, her turquoise, polka dotted, footsie pajamas topped by her mess of blond hair and hands holding two pink apron ties up to her eyes.  "Where is that June-bug?  Is she behind the blue apron?"  I pretend to look and she suppresses laughter.  "Nope, not behind the blue one... is she behind the pink one?"  I pull on the ties but June has them in a death grip.  "My, the strings sure are heavy... and hey, there are two little hands holding on to them.  What's behind those hands?  It's a June-bug."  I then tickle her on the ribs and below the  chin while she giggles in my arms.

"Okay, Dad.  You hide.  You have to hold the strings and put them to your eyes."  I hold them and peek out at her while she walks around.  "Is Dad over here?  Nope.  Is Dad behind the blue one?  Nope, not behind the blue one.  Is Dad by this machine (not making this up, she said that while looking at the Kitchen Aid behind me).  Nope, not by the machine.  If I turn these nobs (on the toaster).  Nope."  She proceeded to climb over me to get to the cookies, but only made it about half way.  "Is he in here?  Nope, not in here (meaning, inside the box of cookies).  Is he behind the pink one?  There's Dad!  Tickle tickle."  As tiny fingers moved beneath my chin.  It's not too bad being Dad.