One Sunday, three FAILS.
1. Billy is learning his food words. Every meal he points to each item on his plate and I tell him what it is. Then he repeats the word for me the best that he can. This morning he had Cheerios, apples, bread and milk. He repeated each one. But five minutes later he picked up the soda bread and said (in perfect English with perfect pronunciation) "apple". No, "bread." Then at dinner he had some regular bread. He picked it up, showed it to Daddy and said (in perfect English with perfect pronunciation)"apple!" FAIL.
2. While playing with his toys he picked up his football and shoved it in his mouth. It was really cute until he put it down, walked over to a Buddy ball and shoved that in his mouth. We're still working on separation of toys...apparently, not very well. FAIL.
3. Billy was playing with something he knew he wasn't supposed to pick up because it was too heavy/dangerous/notmadeforbabies. He suddenly dropped it, possibly on his foot, and yelled (in perfect English with perfect pronunciation) "f*ck!" FAIL.
And a parenting wail...
This evening I decided to take a shower to have a fifteen minute break after a long day with my Crankypants (teething again, argh!). I climbed in to the nice steamy water for my relaxing break for the day. Just then, I heard the patter, patter, patter of little feet. Billy came bounding into the bathroom, followed by Daddy, followed by Buddy. Billy started slapping the glass, so I played our tapping game with him (I tap with my hand and leave it there and then he repeats). Then I kindly asked Daddy to make everyone leave so I could have some privacy. A minute later I heard the patter, patter, patter of little feet.
"Honey, he only wants Mommy, so we're going to play in the bathroom."
There I am, just trying to shampoo my hair like any normal woman with a Daddy and a baby and a dog there for company. Then I see Billy waving his binky over the open toilet. Dear God, please don't let him drop his binky in the toilet! But, I was saved by poop! Yes, Billy decided just then to let fly and Daddy had to rush him out for a diaper change. Phew! The binky was saved, I knew I had 5 minutes to myself and Daddy got stuck with a stinkeroo. But, of course, as soon as he had a new diaper, I had an audience again.
And that was my nice, relaxing, 15 minute time to myself. Yup.