It's been a rough morning for Michael. He woke up this morning with a cold. The poor baby is snuffling, coughing, and is so hoarse he can hardly cry. It's very pathetic. I've ended up holding him most of the morning in between his frequent nursings. That seems to make him feel better. I can't stand hearing him cry and complain when he can hardly make any noise. He doesn't seem to have a fever fortunately.
Melissa has taken advantage of my pre-occupation with Michael practice her "toddler tornado" on our house. Toys are everywhere! The contents of the living room trash can and our bottom kitchen cupboards were scattered everywhere. Then she discovered that the gate to the office was OPEN! Melissa located the permanent red marker. Thankfully, she has learned about coloring on paper, so most of the damage was confined to office papers, receipts, and photographs. She just couldn't resist adding the finishing red flourishes to the couch pillow and the kitchen linoleum.
All of this was much cheaper than the LAST time she got ahold of it. That time she drew on the front of "Chicken Soup for The Expectant Mother's Soul", a brand new library book. I was the first person to check it out of the library. Since Melissa did not write the book, they were not particularly interested in keeping her autographed edition in their collection. I now own this exclusive edition after paying for it's replacement. I am considering giving it as a Christmas gift; it's too bad it has the library stickers to it.
I am going to throw the red permanent marker out. It's cheaper to buy a washable marker than purchase library books. :-)
Melissa found one of Michael's water bottles this morning. She started to drink out of it, then ran over where I was feeding Michael.
"Myhull!" exclaimed the Baboo in a loud voice as she attempted to stick the bottle into his mouth.
My mouth fell open. When I recovered my speech, all I could say was "You said Michael!"
Meanwhile, Michael attempted to communicate to his sister that he preferred breast milk to water bottles by squirming and fussing.
Finally, I said "Thank you Melissa, but Michael doesn't want his bottle right now".
She tried one more time and then, convinced that "Myhull" was not interested in the bottle, she stuck it into her mouth and walked off.
Melissa is in cloth diapers today and pants. These are different pants than she was in at the start of today. Melissa did a huge soft poop in her diaper. She fussed at me while I was feeding Michael (I do that a lot, and little Baboo gets a bit frustrated at times). I could easily smell the problem, but figured it would not kill her to wait a couple of minutes until her poor, sick baby brother finished his meal. He feel asleep, I put him down, and then turned to Melissa.
"OH NO! Yuck! Ack! Melissa don't touch anything!"
Melissa, tired of waiting, had decided to take things into her own hands. Literally. She had pulled down her pants, un-velcroed her diaper wrap, pulled out the poop covered diaper liner and deposited in on our living room rug and was just reaching back in for a large poo lump which had fallen off of the liner on the way out! The clean-up job, I will leave to everyone's imagination.