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...including vomiting, diarrhea, and a little Bumbershoot. Actually, Her Nibs did all the vomiting, but I still had to play nurse (and I didn't get to wear the uniform, dang it) because I got the bug later and got over it sooner. What little of Bumbershoot I did see I liked: Zuco 103 is the good thing that happens when Brazilians get their hands on synthesizers and turntables, and I will admit to grooving as local raver-type people did their thing at EMP, specifically Matt Corwine and Jacob London. And oh yes, the art exhibits: Barbie si, Martha Stewart no, but what I really dug was the visual Exquisite Corpse exhibit, which was a collection of paintings, drawings, & sculptures each done by three different artists in the spirit of the surrealist writing game. (You know, each person adds a word, but they only get to see the previous word, or something like that.)
Getting back to the grossness thread, the Wendling tried to change his own poopy diaper yesterday during nap time. He got poop on the carpet in four places; his socks; two (2) pairs of pants, one of which he put on his head while I was cleaning up; and a towel that he hid under his bed. It was a regular fecal Chernobyl. I'm ready to potty train that kid now if it means using cattle prods.
The Wendling's first day of kindergarten is today. When he first got up, he ran all around the upstairs trying to keep us from putting his clothes on (hee!), but eventually we got him dressed, fed, and in school. Her Nibs cried (she hasn't been able to take happy pills for a few days -- see tummy bug above), and I took pictures for which the Wendling smiled goofily as usual. I worry about what'll happen when he drops his first load in class. Oy.
Getting back to the grossness thread, the Wendling tried to change his own poopy diaper yesterday during nap time. He got poop on the carpet in four places; his socks; two (2) pairs of pants, one of which he put on his head while I was cleaning up; and a towel that he hid under his bed. It was a regular fecal Chernobyl. I'm ready to potty train that kid now if it means using cattle prods.
The Wendling's first day of kindergarten is today. When he first got up, he ran all around the upstairs trying to keep us from putting his clothes on (hee!), but eventually we got him dressed, fed, and in school. Her Nibs cried (she hasn't been able to take happy pills for a few days -- see tummy bug above), and I took pictures for which the Wendling smiled goofily as usual. I worry about what'll happen when he drops his first load in class. Oy.
