Four Cute Things
1. One of Austen's favorite things to do is stand on the counter in front of the spice cabinet and shake the spice jars. On Sunday morning, Al was the one making sure he didn't fall off the counter when Austen leaned his head back to open the cabinet door... and bonked Al in the face. "Uh oh!" said Austen, and he turned to kiss Al and make it better.
2. After breakfast we went out onto the back deck to plant the squash and tomato plants I'd bought, and Austen helped me turn the compost and shovel the dirt into the pots. He got *really* excited, however, when he saw me water the seedlings with the hose. He stuck his hands in front of it and squealed for more, even though he was getting wet. After a few minutes of on-off-on-off with the hose and more giddy squealing, I gave up on keeping him dry and let him have all the water he wanted. Al got some great snaps of the fun, including these (links are to the large versions, which show the best detail):
3. When we got done with the gardening, we decided to go out and try to get some errands done (forgetting it was Easter, of course; we quickly changed plans and went to Princeton for lunch instead). I brought Austen up to the bedroom for a wardrobe change, since he was totally soaked. That mission accomplished, I went into the bathroom to put on a little makeup. I dabbed some foundation under my eyes and then covered my blemishes (zits! yes, I still get zits at 37, sheesh!) with a salicylic acid concealer. Apply concealer, pat pat pat, apply concealer, pat pat pat, etc. I capped the concealer stick, set it aside, and reached for the loose powder. I was dusting my forehead when I noticed Austen to my right in the mirror, poking himself with the concealer stick and then pat pat patting his face with a fingertip. Poke poke, pat pat pat. Poke poke, pat pat pat.
4. I decided a few weeks ago that I wanted to introduce the concept of peeing in the toilet to Austen long before we actually expect him to do it. I suggested that Al pee before getting into the tub with Austen each night, so Austen could see how it worked. After about a week of saying, "look, Daddy's peeing before he gets in the tub!", we brought in a stepstool, put it in front of the toilet, and said, "do you have to pee too?" We'd lift Austen up onto the stepstool (for some reason, he usually lifts his feet; I think he thinks we're putting him into the toilet, like it's the tub), get him to stand on it, and then say, "ok, your turn to pee!" He never does, of course, but the ritual is fun. (He does know where his p____—I'm not using the actual word because I'm trying to avoid coming up as a Google result for it, not because I'm shy—is, btw; I asked him "where's your p____?" one night, and he bent over, spotted it, and pointed. I'm just not certain whether he knows how to use it to pee, consciously.)
Anyway, it's probably a good thing that Austen hasn't tried to pee in the toilet yet, since there's still a large gap between his p____ and the bowl even when we push the stepstool as close to the toilet as possible. Because of this gap, Al decided to buy Austen his own potty on Saturday. We tried it out for the first time on Sunday night, when, after announcing, "look, Daddy's peeing! Do you need to pee too?", Austen nodded vigorously. I turned him toward the potty, but he turned back, climbed over me, and ran out of the bathroom. I poked my head out to see where he was going—I had visions of him trying to pee in the laundry basket or something—and I saw him heading for the stepstool, which we keep over by the closet when not in use. "He's getting the stepstool!" I whispered to Al. We giggled quietly and then straightened our faces as Austen marched into the bathroom with the stepstool and plunked it in front of the toilet. He still didn't pee, but hey, it's a start.