I can't believe it. It's official. Fintan is a two year old. *sniff* I put him in his bed last night and felt a catch in my throat as I kissed my one year old for the very last time.
Last night after his bath, as if to drive the point home to me that he is growing up whether I want it or not, he (and unless you've had babies you will not understand the bigness of this deal) asked to poopoo on the potty. I put him there expecting him to just sit there and do nothing as the potty is brand new and I've hardly even broached the subject with him except to read a few potty books here and there. Well after a minute or two and a few grunts he started unrolling the toilet paper and telling me he was going to wipe. I played along but didn't realize until he stood up that there was actually poopoo in the potty! An honest to goodness pellet. He did it! I couldn't believe it. Pat and I cheered. Fintan beamed. What a right of passage for your last night as a one year old, huh?
Actually, his last few days as a one-year-old have been fun. The weather has been nice and cool so we've been able to get outside a lot, even if Coen is awake. I can wear him in a wrap and we can go for nature walks to Fintan's favorite place: the mulch pile, stopping on the way to pick a few cherry tomatoes as an afternoon snack for Fintan. A few days ago on one of our nature walks we found the biggest toad we had ever seen at our house. It was a pretty laid back toad and he let Fintan pet him for a moment or two before hopping on his way.
He played in his sandbox a lot and even laid down in it once to better sing "Up on the Housetop Reindeer Paws".
I'm going to end this here with a birthday pic since I don't know where I was going with this whole monologue. ;) Here he is, the man of the hour, king of the cube and supreme dictator:
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