Well that was an adventure in parenting self-confidence. First of all, Holden's diaper contained a considerable amount of poop. I mean, I'm pretty sure an adult male gorilla could have produced more, but I wouldn't actually lay a wager on it. So the poor kid had to sit in a diaper full of poop and wail and beat his fists against his swing in true furious despair to drag my attention away from the admittedly fascinating sight of my backyard. I mean, I've only lived here for seven years. Something in the backyard might have changed last night, and I needed to stare at it to know for sure.
Then, as I sweet-talked to him and wiped the poo off his poor little butt, I realized he wasn't cooing back. I glanced up to see him peeing into his mouth. Yes. I allowed my son to pee into his own mouth.
Yes, thank you all for voting for me for parent of the year. I'm so proud to have been selected and to stand as an example for all pa... what? You were voting me out of the running? Automatic disqualification?
I kinda feel like I should explain or make it better somehow. I mean, it all happened very fast. I don't think he got more than a couple of swallows. But then I realized that you know? It doesn't really matter how much or little urine was involved. My son just peed into his own mouth. I am both horrified and a little proud.
I had planned for this post to be a happy discussion of how I am coming along in the organization and planning, improving little by little. I think instead I'll go make another latte, but this time I'm adding liquor.