And life goes on

Two nights ago, Bella bit a hole in her last binkie. Vincent told her that he'd need to throw it away because it was broken, and then came slinking into our room to ask what to do.

I fought the urge to say, "make a parenting decision by yourself and then just let me know about it, just this once." Instead, together we decided that it was the end of Bella's binkie days.

And then it was over. She went to sleep, without the binkie. Last night, she asked for it again, and Vincent reminded her that we had thrown it away.

And then she went to sleep. Without the binkie.

So I guess it's over - my baby is no longer a baby. Now she just needs to use the potty consistently and I can send her right off to college.

In other news, Adelyn has a new game, which consists of crawling as quickly as she can to the toilet and splashing furiously until I stop her. And don't talk to me about toilet locks - there are (almost) four other toilet users in this house, people who do not confuse the toilet with a swimming pool - and not everyone can unlock in time. So do I want swimming pools of urine on the floor outside of the toilet? No. I'll shoot for trying to keep the bathroom door closed, thank you very much.

Besides, Riley's in this stealth mode thing where he likes to poop and then wipe himself and pretend that it didn't happen. Except that he doesn't always flush. At least this allows me to sometimes realize what he's done - and wipe the remaining tablespoon of feces off of his tiny ass before he sits on my couch.

Trust me, you are no more disgusted than I am.

And, no, Adelyn has not discovered unflushed poop floating in her country club pool. Yet. But you and I fear the same thing, my friend. The stars are lining up too neatly for me to pretend that it won't happen, even once.

Pray for us.