A (very) Personal Story

We’ve had a “mama” few weeks, and it’s hard to find a time to myself, even to use the bathroom. Earlier today, Eitan came charging in while I was peeing. I got up to wipe myself and he (of course) noticed the tampon string hanging down. “Why string?” he asked, as I tried to shield myself and he walked along with me to get a better view.

“Well…”, I gave him the simplest, briefest, off-the-cuff explanation I could.

“Hurt?” he wondered.

“No,” I responded, “it doesn’t hurt going in or coming out”.

“How does poop come out?” he asked. Another excellent question!

“It comes out a different hole,” I replied.

“Ok mama,” he said, and then jumped up singing David Melech using the wrong tune. Is it strange that this story makes me happy?


Eitan’s Humor

For Rosh Hashanah, Papa made an apple challah in the shape of a spiral. When we first saw it, Dada started saying “That looks…”. You could tell he was about to say “amazing” or “delicious”. Instead, Eitan interjected “like a poop!” We all burst out laughing, including Eitan. It kind-of did, but it was also delicious.


Three Bathrooms

Following construction of one of the recent block homes Eitan likes to build (and subsequently demolish), we were given a tour. The home had one bedroom, one kitchen, and THREE bathrooms. Why three, you may wonder?

One bathroom for pee.

One bathroom for poop.

One bathroom for diarrhea.

Eitan, laughing hysterically

Needless to say, “diarrhea” has become one of Eitan’s new favorite words.


Baby out!

This morning started off like any other morning. Snack at 8:15. Circle Time at 10:00. Even lunch went off without a hitch, albeit the little boy partook of more of the sustenance due to the availably of pita and “hoo-moos” (a new favorite). But cozy time? Well, that’s a story worthy of a blog post.

Our guy takes a while to settle down post lunch. Books, a fight to put on his sleeper bag, more books, another fight to actually put the sleeper on. And so it went on this Monday, the seventeenth of January. That is, until Dada required use of the facilities.

Eitan took the suggestion like a champ. In his sleeper, he retained all three sponge toys as Dada placed him on the mat next to the shower. A few minutes went by as Eitan played peacefully and happily.

Then, it hit. “Hmmph. Hmmph.” His nose pointed up. I could see it in his eyes. “What is that smell, Dada?” But before I could blink, Eitan forwent with the quandary. Instead: “Baby out!”

Escape was only moments away and the entire adventure delayed nap time a measly five minutes or less, but this baby was done. Sometimes, you can avoid panic like this. But, sometimes, the old mantra rings true: when you gotta go, you gotta go.