The Poor Second Child

I saw a sign the other day that said something about how when your first child eats dirt, you panic and call the doctor.  When your second child eats a handful of dirt, you wipe it out with a wet cloth and skip the call to the pediatrician’s office.  And when your third child eats a fistful of dirt, you wonder if you have to feed him dinner now, or if that was filling enough.

And do you know what?

Well, I laughed out loud at that, because of THROW OUT A WORD OF TRUTH, WHY DON’T YOU?

When the boy was an adorable little mite, he only ate his Cheerios in his highchair or off of the CLOROXED and VERY CLEAN tray of his walker.  And he wore a bib.  And I sat nearby to make sure there was no choking… and definitely none of the LOOK, MA!  I HAVE TWO CHEERIOS IN MY MOUTH AT ONCE!  And when Cheerios time was over, the boy was pretty much bathed and redressed in spotless clothing, because OH, MY!  He was a clean baby, because in my young mind, a clean baby was equal to an attentive mama who had her act all together.

Oh, the shows we put on for others.

With Thing 2, I’ll just flat-out tell you right now that my act didn’t even make the curtain call.  I gave Thing 2 a cup of Cheerios while he was sitting on the kitchen floor yesterday.  Naturally, the very first thing he did was turn the cup upside down.

And then… yes.

I let him eat ALL of his Cheerios off of the floor.  I mentally tried to remember when the last time I’d vacuumed was.  I at least put some effort into making a stab at having my act together.

(The boy ate HIS Cheerios off of our floor exactly NEVER-POINT-NEVER times.)

In the end, I couldn’t really remember when the vacuum cleaner was out last, so I just hoped that everything that went into his mouth WAS INDEED a Cheerio.

And I never even bothered to wipe that poor baby’s face when he was done eating.

I was going to take him outside for a side dish of dirt, but we had too much snow.

Y’all have a great weekend.

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