This is what poor Sam has to resort to when his bottle gets left in his crib. He tried to pull it out first, but it wouldn't fit through the slats. Must be kind of like having your best friend in jail.
This is what poor Sam has to resort to when his bottle gets left in his crib. He tried to pull it out first, but it wouldn't fit through the slats. Must be kind of like having your best friend in jail.

Steven showed up at my house a little over a week ago when I had been gone for about a half hour. That's all the time it takes for my house to be completely taken apart. He walked in just a few minutes before I got there to naked Sam, flour all over the floor (Yes, that was about the 8th time - slow learner that I am, I finally moved the flour out of reach.), flour all over Sam's nether regions, various kitchen items and papers strewn all over the floor, countertops, etc., and several loads of laundry waiting to be folded in my living room. As I diapered Sam, swept up flour, and pulled out my hair, Steven tried in vain to help. He had a very concerned expression on his face the whole time he was here. I think he's worried about me.
He went back and forth and back and forth moving flour by the handful until he had the equivalent of at least a 5 pound bag piled up. Of course, he was covered head to toe as well (too bad the camera wasn't handy).

I've been told during my whole life as a mother to write down the funny things that my kids say. I've done a little of that, but unfortunately, not nearly enough. I've just been re-reading some old journal entries and came across several things my kids said and did that I had absolutely no memory of. Not even an, "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that." How could I have possibly forgotten about Abby washing her hair in the toilet. But even after reading about it, I am drawing a complete blank. I remember a lot of what my older two kids said and did, but as my brain becomes more fragmented with age and children, I seem to forget a scarey amount.