Overheard

I was changing a poopy Eve diaper on the changing table last night, and as usual, Jo was hanging on the table, observing. Being the aficionado of all things poop-related, Jo offered the following commentary to Eve for entertainment while I changed her.

Jo: “Evie. Poopy is here. (Pointing to Evie’s tummy.) In your tummy. Right, Mommy?”

Me: “Yup – pretty much.” I really didn’t feel like differentiating between colons and tummies and all that jazz.

Jo: “We puussh it out. (Offers a little grunt to emphasize the word ‘push.’) It comes out ours butts. I put the poopy in the potty. And Daddy does. And Mommy does. Not Brewster. He goes outside. Not Baxter. He pushes his poopy out in the little box. Right, Mommy?”

Me: “Yup. We do.”

Jo: “It makes ours tummies feel better when we push the poopy out ours butts. Right, Mommy?”

Me: “Yup. It sure does.”

Jo: “We call it poopy. Or poop. (Pauses. Then continues, a little mystified) But Meg calls it po-po. Silly Meg.”

I was helping Josie get dressed this morning in her room. She took off her jammie shirt, and then out of nowhere, started flailing her arms all over the place, enough so that I backed up a bit so as to not get smacked in the head. I asked her what in the world she was doing.

Jo: “LOOKATMYARMS!” Still wildly flailing.

Me: “Yes – I see that…”

Jo: “They’re PLAYING with each other!”

So it’s just me and the girls for the next coupla days while Pat is in Boston on a business trip. This morning went smashingly well. I know lots of moms, and dads, have to wrangle kids all by themselves in the morning, but I’m not used to going it alone, and it sure does make me feel like a Super Mom when I arrive at work and both girls are dressed and fed and happy and I managed not to forget one of them at home. It can be tricky as Josie, especially, hovers on the edge of getting pretty emotional when one of us is gone; our girls are very spoiled by our time and attention and having both of us around most of the time. I was gone the majority of last weekend for some much-needed relaxation with friends at the Mathews' Mansion and Home for Wayward Mommies. When I returned just in time for the girls waking up from naps on Sunday, Josie tried to tell me that she didn’t miss me… as her little eyes started welling up with tears. Then she demanded that we snuggle on the couch, and I haven’t been able to be very far out of her sight around the house ever since. I have to put forth a lot of extra effort into keeping everything very light and fun and extra-upbeat when Pat is gone. She was on the verge of tears this morning when she remembered, but we quickly moved on to getting dressed and teeth brushed and cereal and happier thoughts. Eve, from what I can tell, just thinks that Daddy is still upstairs, sleeping. I’ve tried to tell her that no, Daddy had to go bye-bye for work, and she just looks at me, points to the stairs and says, “Daddy leeping.” Okay, Eve. Daddy should be well-rested when he returns on Thursday.