I realize I haven't posted in over a month. We are all alive. I have been reading instead of blogging. Oops. Pictures will be added later when I get around to uploading some...But now for the horrifying true story. I hope you're sitting down. Oh and if you have a weak stomach you should pretty much just skip this post.
Bonesteele wakes up a little earlier than Mrs N likes to. So I have babyproofed my room and I let him crawl around and self-entertain and get into things, while I try to catch a few more zzzzs. Depending on Bonesteele's mood, this works for anywhere from zero to thirty minutes. One morning I was lightly dozing when I heard the terrifying sound of Bonesteele gagging. I leapt from bed, looked down at my son, and said...
"That's your own poop, isn't it."
Oh yes, it was. It was so disgusting, words are failing me. Bonesteele had had raisins the day before...so little poop-covered raisins had popped right out of the back of his diaper onto the carpet...and I guess he was intrigued. Luckily, he found the taste of those morsels not to his liking. Oh my heavens.