in which we declare war on ourselves just for kicks
Amid questions such as:
Is the moon sharp?
Why does [poop] come out of me?
If I’m a baby I will cry and drink Mommy’s white milk and cry, right?
We dared to try the toddler bed again. WTF? Do we have it in for ourselves? Noah’s clearly not ready and neither are we. No more of this toying with our own emotions. No more of this yanking our intestines through our bellybuttons very slowly and without sedation.
Not one of us can handle the freedom a toddler bed entails (an open side that Noah can enter and exit at will! Are you flippin’ kidding me?)– except maybe Gabriel, who grins winningly when Noah appears like a bat out of Hell like an angel descending from Heaven in the crib with him, yanking his pacifier from his mouth and shouting in his face, “Are you sleeping, baby? Gabey-Gabey, are you sleepin’?”
November 3rd, 2008 at 11:31 pm
Yea, it all seems so important at the time, but who remembers when kids made the switch to a toddler bed when they get older?