November 02, 2011


Last night, we introduced pull-ups to Eliot because some nights he is dry, but some nights he wakes up in the middle of the night crying because he wet the bed and he's wet and cold and needs help. Not fun. So, we're doing pull-ups now. And when I started to put them on him, and take him to the bathroom to show him how he can pull them off and on himself, he says, "This is going to be really fun!" He's so enthusiastic sometimes, it's very cute. But I'm like, dude, their pull-ups. I'm glad you're not demoralized or anything by using pull-ups at night now, but the enthusiasm of a 2+-year-old sometimes really tickles me.
Meanwhile, both kids are now crying when I leave the house for work. At first, it was just Eliot. Now Silas is climbing aboard. Ugh. I feel loved. That part is nice. But I wish they weren't so distressed. Or seemingly distressed.

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