I found a Nu-Nu in my Shoe-Shoe

As of late Archer has been hiding his pacifiers in strange and wonderful places, like for instance a Michael Kors shoe: (Uncle Frank's influence?)


Slightly more glamorous than the Tampax box I found his nu-nu in several hours ago, but hey... can't win 'em all.


GGC

Walker, Secret Ranger

Yesterday I caught Archer walking, privately. I was in the other room and when I caught him halfway between the kitchen table and the couch and I screamed, fell to my knees with hands on my cheeks, just as he quickly fell on his knees and crawled on with sneaky eyes, nothing to see here!

This morning he did the same thing except I pretended not to notice and make a big deal. Perhaps the pressure was too much so I faked indifference.

"Two steps? Whatever. That's nothing," I said and went back to doing the dishes.

Last week I caught him walking (three steps?) down the hall before he fell to his knees. I thought maybe I was hallucinating. I had sort of resigned myself to the fact I would never see my son on two feet, at least not until after his fourteenth birthday.

But I think he was walking. I think he can walk. I think he has been walking... in secret.

I have decided that Archer is the smallest spy in town. He leads a double life and when I put him down to bed he secretly climbs out of his crib and walks around his room all night long. Much like the nutcracker and all of the holiday toys who come to life on Christmas Eve, Archer waits until I'm fast asleep and then he parades around the house on two feet. March, 2,3,4!

Perhaps he even sneaks out the window to show off his skills to the squirrels (or as he often says, "quirls"). Maybe he even climbs the persimmon tree in the backyard in sneakers, because in Archer's "secret life," he will actually wear SOMETHING beside Robeez.

AND MAYBE, just MAYBE one day, he will let me in on his little secret. Maybe, someday soon, I'll catch him walking and instead of falling to the floor, he'll smile and walk straight into my arms.

GGC

One Shit Wonder

This is my 300th post (not that that means anything but I thought I'd share.)


ANYWAY...Poop. Shit. Fecal Matter. Or as some people call it, "mess." Have I explained to you that it is my pet peeve when people call poop, mess? Like "Dog Mess?" ACK! It's always muttered out of the same breed of twisted mouth. Hate. Anyway... Crap. Dung. Poo-Poo. Stinky Stink. Etc. But for the sake of a good title, let's just call it, "shit."

Archer poops once a day. It's a very large "shit." and it happens around the same time, mid-morning usually, before naptime. It demands my full attention. A dozen wipes? Check. Diaper on deck, ready to wear? Check. White robe? Check. Goggles? Check. I'll spare you the details for now. I know, I know, you're welcome.

But here's where it gets REALLY exciting: As of late, Archer has become, Crouching Baby, Hidden Dragon up in this bitch, sneaking off to do his duty away from my watchful eyes, and it's my favorite thing in the world.

Yeah, you heard me, Archer's new crouch-poop under the table gives me more pleasure than a pint of Haagen Dazs ice-cream.


He does this thing with his face, makes this little puzzled look, checks to see if I'm looking (I pretend like I'm not) and then he grunts and does poopy smile, looks to see if I'm looking (still pretending like I'm not) and then finishes with a second grunt, and crawls off toward his bedroom for me to change him.

Next stop toilet training, right? Psh, I know but I can't be bothered thinking about that yet. For now, I'm enjoying his wonder-poop.

Ah, yes... The sweet comfort of my one shit wonder.

GGC