I dressed Jonah in some denim overalls and as he ran off I thought they looked a bit odd.  He was showing a bit too much leg.  A sudden growth spurt, I surmised.  But then remembered this was Jonah. 

I looked at the size tag to be sure - turns out one of his old overalls somehow got mixed in with his current clothing.  At 29 months, Jonah still fits into size 6 month overalls.

At the Flora Cohen art exhibit:

After an unforeseen mini-sabbatical, I am back. I will get into the reasoning for the sabbatical at a later time – it’s too soon at the moment and I’d be sued for libel.

At a friend’s birthday party over the weekend, the theme was Disney princesses. Snow White, Ariel, et al are the current rage for preschool girls, which makes me glad I have two boys.

The birthday girl’s Mom was concerned that the mostly male invitees would be annoyed with all the princess paraphernalia, but I assured her that - my boys at least – would be totally oblivious.

[Although their friend Julia did want to play dress-up with them last week. Jonah would have no part of it, but we did manage to get a tutu over Benjamin’s head. Then he suddenly realized that this was So Wrong and couldn’t get it off fast enough.]

But at this princess birthday party there was also a piñata – and what little boy doesn’t like whacking at an object with a stick?

A few kids whacked away – Josiah loosened it up quite a bit. Then Benjamin told me he wanted to try. He took a couple of swings to get the hang of it, then WHACK! The piñata broke open.

All the kids ran in to scoop up the treats, which was the highlight of the party for Jonah. But Benjamin just kept swinging the stick around, having a grand old time. He carried that stick around till we left.

I deposited the boys in their respective cribs (which have now been moved several feet away from one another to prevent Jonah’s bed-hopping) for naps. I could hear them having a grand old time through the monitor – laughing, talking, carrying on. After about twenty minutes I decided to go in and remind them it was time to rest.

First, there was the stench when I opened the door. It smelled like a feed lot. Then I saw Jonah grinning at me from the floor, which means he has at long last learned to escape from his crib. Then I saw he was diaper-less. Then I noticed about a dozen little brown pellets on the floor – it looked like a herd of rabbits had just passed through. Then I saw the wall, which Jonah had finger painted with his own poop. I documented this because it was completely unbelievable:

There were also a couple of pellets in Benjamin’s crib and he had also finger painted on the wall. Some of the floor pellets had been stepped on and ground into carpet. Jonah’s socks and hands were covered in poop.

I mean, really, what was going on in his brain during all this?  Didn't it smell?  "Hmmm" thought Jonah.  "Let me remove my diaper, climb out of my crib, and poop all over the floor!  How fun!  And look, the poop is squishy!  Cool!  Just the right medium for painting!  Naked painting! I feel so liberated!"   

I diapered Jonah, cleaned him up, and plopped him on the big bed. I cleaned the floor and the wall. I removed the pellets from Benjamin’s crib then climbed in to clean the wall. And it was as if I was participating in some kind of sports game because Benjamin broadcasted a play-by-play:

“You’re cleaning, Mama?

Mama cleaning Jonah’s poop.

No, Jonah, no put poop on wall.

Mama, you’re in my crib with me?

Want to play?

Let’s play, Mama, let’s play.”

Would’ve been nice if he had been doing a play-by-play when it was actually happening – I would’ve heard it through the monitor...

I called Jonathan and my ever-supportive and empathetic husband said, “I’m so glad I’m not there right now.”  (I made him take two aspirin before he saw the above photos.)

Later in the conversation he said, “Well, we knew this was coming – it’s a rite of passage.”

Rite of passage?