We bought Colin a potty chair. Last weekend, he squatted and grunted and I knew he was pooping. When he was finished, I asked him if he needed a new diaper. He walked over to me and pointed towards the hallway to go to his bedroom to change his diaper. So...without any pressure on him whatsoever, we're going to try...on the weekends only...to catch him in the act and see if we can get him to do his 8 a.m. poop on his potty chair. So far, no luck. He's being sneaky about it.
Here he is testing it out (uhhh....backwards. We'll work on that one):
And here he is in his diaper chillin' while mommy's watching his every move like a villain, waiting for that magical moment. The toy he's holding is a remote control. So he's a little man in his skivvies, baseball hat, and remote in hand:
And Colin got out all of the mops and brooms and decided to clean the floors for me.
Little man had a strange hairdo going on. It was all fuzzy in the back, with some long mullet-ish hairs growing down his nape. Constant bedhead. I didn't mind the long front hairs so much, but if you cut the back, the front has to go too. So we got out the clippers. He actually did a great job getting his hair cut!
During:
I'd like to find a clipper attachment that is longer. I feel like he just got his head shaved to join the Army or something. And no, he didn't magically get a few birthmarks. On Thursday night, Colin fell on the sidewalk and scraped up his forehead. He only cried for a minute while I rushed him into the house, covering his head with kisses the whole way. I popped his nuk in his mouth and he was fine after that. But you know I freaked out and immediately thought he for SURE had a concussion.Tonight before bed, I rocked my baby for the last time. Tomorrow, he'll wake up and be a toddler. A toddler who still likes to be rocked before bed.
365 days ago this very moment, I was going to bed not knowing how my life was about to change within a span of 8 hours.
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