Success

Great moments in parenting.

During prep for bath time, Sadie, every time she has her diaper off and is finally free to be nude, upon being set down immediately sprints across the room like her pants are on fire, except she has none. I don't know what it is about being nude that makes the child sprint, maybe she's afraid that someone will see her, maybe she's channeling dancing around a fire in the Great Rift valley, who knows? She just loves to sprint in the nude. I guess it's faster without all those clothes holding you back. Anyhow, she generally sprints to our bedroom and stands by Steph's bureau. I don't know why. In this great moment in parenting, Sadie, sprinted across the house, stood by the bureau, and peed. Now, rather than clean the mess up, Lord only knows what Steph was doing, it was allowed to remain on the floor. In the meantime, Sadie, sprinted back into her bedroom, probably to say "yaya" and hug the little blanket that she loves at least twice as much as both of her parents. Anyhow, realizing that she still had one last wind sprint, she tore across the floor into the bedroom only to slip and smack her head on the hardwood floor when she hit the puddle of urine. The moral to the story is either, don't pee on the floor because you might fall and "don" your head, or, don't sprint in the nude, or if you're going to pee make sure that your parents clean it up or you might slip on it. I'm just sorry that I didn't witness it firsthand as I would have laughed.

I took Sadie to the park today. I did it because I'm a good dad, and also because I wanted to go to the park. Anyhow, I don't want Sadie to turn into a wimp, so when she decided to climb up towards one of the high slides, only to begin backing down the stairs saying, "down, down" I picked her up and put her in my lap and prepared her for the amazing trip down the slide. The thing is though, due to some article S made me read, I pulled up Sadie's legs to make sure they weren't fractured or something, which meant my legs were up, which meant that when I got to the bottom of the slide and wanted to stop before hitting a giant mud puddle, I couldn't. This made me sad. Sadie was unfazed.

We continued on to the other playground, and I let her slide down a big slide, which was incredibly slow, three times by herself. At that point, Sadie, being a smart little child, realized that the slide was lame, climbed the stairs again and positioned herself at the top of a silver slide that went nearly straight down. At first I pulled her away, but she did that awesome going entirely limp thing that toddlers learn to punish their parents for having them, so I decided to buck up and take her on the slide. And, using my new method to avoid injury, I slid down the slide with lil s on my lap and careened right of the thing at the bottom, taking a hard fall on what we're going to call my tail bone. Sadie said, "boom" and then got up to repeat the trick. I didn't follow. The main point of the story is that you shouldn't every take your kids on a slide, because you'll likely wind up with a bruised tailbone, and I'm fairly certain that tomorrow, when I can't get out of bed, I'll have that damn silver slide to thank. And Sadie, who learned today that when music is playing it's fun to play the "drums," which she sort of pronounces as bums.