Jeremy has managed to catch the Creeping Crud while I seem to remain untouched. What cracks me up, though, is that while he was all, MMmmm.... I'd rather go to bed, lets wait until the morning, when Lydia was laying all pathetic and feverish in my bed... Jeremy sniffs and snuffs and sleeps and snores and then comes home with two different pills and a nose spray for his head congestion.
I have to hand it to him, he hasn't whined that he's dying and he's not woe-is-me'ing his way all through the house, but the fact that he sought out his doc on the boat to get medicine for himself, yet was too tired to willingly take his kid to the doctor is a stark contrast. Its a little hysterical.
Ruby is using only four to five diapers a day. The beginnings of potty training have started.
We've pulled out the seat that sits on the toilet and let her spend one hour naked from the bottom down. She managed to pee on the floor three or four different times in that hour but each time she stopped herself and allowed us to sweep her into the bathroom to finish her business.
She certainly hasn't learned to do her thing on cue, yet, but that's why I do this prep work. Soon enough she'll figure out how to make herself go, then its all a matter of spending a week or two training her how hold it... and then go on cue.
So, every so often, when I have a couple extra dirty towels laying around, I'll probably also have a half naked baby running around for an hour at a time.
Potty training. It excites me. Which might make me the weirdest person, ever.