Pooped

I will start by admitting that I knew that it was bound to happen sooner or later, but I was definitely hoping for later. Muuuuuuuch later...

For the last couple weeks Dashell has only been napping every other day. It's not that he doesn't need a nap. Oh, trust me, he does! It's just that, although seemingly very tired when you put him down, once alone he gets a sudden burst of energy. He sings. He has his animals go on kissing rampages. He opens his shade and looks out the window. He reads books. He has long conversations. He practices shouting, "Allllll Aboooooard!!!" at the top of his lungs. He does just about everything but nap... every other day. On the "other day" he sleeps.... and sleeps.... and sleeps. Waking up somewhere around 4:30pm. So, if he was meant to have a playdate with you and he never showed up, there's a good chance it fell on that "other day" and, well, obviously in that case you would just be plum out luck.

Since this has now been going on for a while, I think that the multitude of fascinating things that you can come up with to do in your crib for a couple hours a day when you should be sleeping has gotten a little old. And consequently today, Dash decided to spice things up a little bit by adding something new to the mix.

After running through all the old favorites he decided to re-tackle something he attempted a few weeks ago... stripping. Why, you ask, was this fun-filled activity abandoned? Let's just say that the first couple times were not particularly successful. (In other words, all sweaters are not equally easy to liberate. Battles ensued and, well, Dash was sadly not the winner.) But, just like the pain of childbirth, even the memory of the agony of defeat can lessen with time. So, today Dash was at it again, but the boy wised up. Why go up, when you can go down? If a sweater is giving you attitude, go south, right? So off came the socks. Then the pants. Then, feelin' breezy and carefree, off to the far corner of the crib he trotted.

I must mention here that this particular corner of the crib is a blind spot for our video monitor. So who knows exactly how it went down, but after a few minutes Dash started swinging something in and out of the view of the camera. In and out. In and out. What could it be? Hmmm... Then he reached over with his other hand, clawed at the object, pulled back in disgust and... ah, yes, I bet you guessed! Our nanny who was watching all this transpire on the monitor (yep, I picked the PERFECT time to run to Target!), first with amusement and then with horror, charged up the stairs! But, too late. The damage was done. Poop! Everywhere! Gross!

And what did the little guy ask for when our nanny flung open his bedroom door??

"Tissue. Tissue," he cried helplessly. "Tissue?"

Like a little tissue would take care of that kind of mess! Silly boy.

All I have to say is, thanks for not picking a weekend day kid! And I swear, from now on, the little rascal will be napping (or not) in footy pajamas!


p.s. I am super behind in my blog reading. I am SO sorry! I haven't read or commented on anyone's in very long time because my crazy work schedule, but I hope in the next week to do a lot of reading. And I hope that there are no hard feelings. I am really looking forward to catching up with everyone very soon!! Sorry again for being so absent.