On With the Shew
As a child... I was going to say "As a child growing up", but that is incorrect. As a child aging, and now, as an aged child, I have maintained a rather fuzzy soft-focus view of developmental milestones. I remember those tales of my childhood and my sister's in a manner which suits my frail ego. For example: I was able to read by the age of 3. My sister was a cross-dresser. Simple thoughts like that make me happy enough to while away the interminable hours of family interaction. Seldom do I reflect on: first act of random violence, or : first bench warrant. But I am thinking about these milestones today, both the good and bad.
Our daughter, who will be three in September, now insists on eliminating her waste (read, pissing like a racehorse, leaving a Nixon) without the benefit of the weird little-ass seat insert. I just finished watching her perch on the seat like... words fail. Like a really small person perching on a standard size shitter. How does one communicate one's pride to family members over this milestone (and I believe it is) without causing embarrassment to the object of my pride?
On a more prosaic note, in the milestone camp, our son took several unassisted steps yesterday. He's walking. Holy shit.
P-man out.
posted by p-man at 2:40 p.m.
4 Comments:
Whoa! He's young to be walking. Look out!
She's a perfect age to be shitting, though. Have you signed her up for rhythmic gymanstics. She could perform miracles with that hoop.
Yeah, that's not one of those ones that parents sit around boasting about, is it? Whatever. What's the point of blogging parenthood if it's not to cause embarrassment to the focus of that blog/parenting?
Congrats on these new, oddly endearing milestones. Well, okay, so the first few steps isn't oddly endearing. Man, this comment is almost getting as weird as your post and your pride.
Anyway... just congrats!
Ours has been into the same thing on some occasions. But last night, it took a turn for the yucky when she had, apparently, a clingy pooh that had not quite left when she scooted off the toilette and got smeared all over the seat. Niiiiiiice.
(and no, Blogger, I did NOT spell that wrong, I was stretching it out to mimic speech. Bad enough that MS word is an asshole with its spellcheck. Et Tu, Blogger?)
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