The Duckie Towel

I haven't been blogging lately and I can only blame it on my having gone back to work, albeit part time but work nonetheless, and literally having no time. Zero time. Which is best illustrated by the fact that for the last three days everyone in my family, including my husband, has been using the duckie hooded towel meant for my daughter with the little googly eyes and the orange feet hanging down. Why don't we have other towels? Fair question. And the truth is that we have plenty of towels but they are either in the washer, the dryer or folded in the guest room and I have not found the thirty seconds it takes to bring them into the bathroom so that we can dry off with normal sized towels. I mean that is RIDICULOUS. I walked into the bathroom and saw my husband patting dry his privates with the duckie beak and I thought, this can't be good.

And speaking of privates and privacy, the topic came up when my son asked to be by himself in his room the other day.

Him: I want to be by myself mommy.
Me: You want me to give you some privacy?
Him: Yes, I want some privacy. Gimme some privacy.
Me: You say, Mommy I'd like some privacy please.
Him: Mommy, I want some privacy please.
Me: Okay, I'll leave and give you some privacy.
Him: No, I want your privacy!
Me: Okay, I'm going.
Him: No, give me the privacy!
Me: Sweetie, privacy is when you are by yourself.
Him: No, give it to me. I want it.
Me: I can give it to you only if I leave.
Him: DON'T GO!!!! I WANT THE PRIVACY!!!! WAHHHH!!!
Me: Bubba (term of endearment), privacy isn't something you can hold or eat. It's not a toy. It's just what you get when you're alone. Why am I explaining this? I should just get him a toy and call it privacy and be done

This conversation continued along the same vein for about a half hour until I finally said, do you want some chocolate milk instead? And he said yes.

We'll have to revisit privacy. Maybe when there are enough towels to go around.

My two scents

My daughter smells like Fiorella.

When I took my son for his first day of daycare more than two years ago, I picked him up and he smelled like Nena. Which was not a bad thing. Nena, his new caregiver, smelled just fine. But for the first time he didn't smell like me. Or poop.

Now my daughter is starting daycare because I'm going back to work next week. And I was feeling really good about everything. Very impressed with Fiorella. My baby napped and drank her bottle on the first day. Can't ask for better than that. And she wasn't super splotchy on her face so I knew she hadn't been crying much. I thought, great. This will be fine. She's fine. I'm fine.

Until I realized that my little girl smelled like Fiorella. A perfectly acceptable smell. But Fiorella nonetheless. Now I'm sad.

Thankfully Fiorella doesn't stink. But going back to work does.