Stuffy noses

There's something to this supposed second child syndrome - at least the part where they're more likely to give you a heart attack than the first child.

Last Sunday's antics included finding the Monkey trying to wash her hair in the toilet. Half her head was wet when I walked into the girls' bathroom and gasped "what are you doing???" She pointed to her head and then the toilet. The Monkey is a child of few words, but she gets her message across. The potty was clean and empty - not always an easy thing in a house with a 4.5-year-old and a 2-year-old - but the toilet?!? Ugh. After a quick discussion about how we wash our hair, hands, bodies, etc. in the tub or sink - which she will probably never remember - we put down the toilet seat and ran her a tub of bath water.

The fun didn't stop there. Today, we come home from a marshmallow and hot dog party completely exhausted and ready for some serious napping. The Squid passed out, but the Monkey (who had been sleeping sitting up in the car) just wouldn't settle down. Eventually, I caved in and took her outside - only to find out that she had stuffed a dandelion bloom up her nose. Her right nostril to be exact! The best part was that she positioned it so the only way to get it out was with tweezers. If you tried to pull it out with your fingers, it just went further up her nose.

We have an adventurous one! I thought boys only did this - boy was I wrong. The Squid spoiled us - she never did anything like this. She repeatedly conducted the "will it float" test in our potty, but she never tried to wash her hair in the potty. Her hands, yes. Her hair, no. And as for her nose - nothing that wasn't supposed to go up her nose ever did. This is where I'm thinking that the second child syndrome comes in. We were on the Squid like hawks; I watched her every move. I tried to give her space, but I'm sure the Monkey has a lot more than her big sister ever did. The Squid also talked a lot earlier, whereas the Monkey has no incentive to talk because her sister does all the talking for her. She's far from being mute, and her vocabulary is improving, but talking is clearly not the Monkey's favorite thing. That may actually work in my favor in the long run as I sometimes want to run from the house screaming when our family gets together...too much talking, too much talking.

Anyway. Our fate is sealed. If the path continues, we will most definitely wind up in the ER before grade school. I don't even want to think about when they're teens. Please keep us and the Monkey's nose in your thoughts. Mom out.