Not going to win any awards
I had an interesting daddy weekend this weekend. It was... not my most shining moment.
So, on Saturday I decided to mop my kitchen. Which, I have to say, made me reach an odd realization. I used to wait until the boy was napping before I tried to do anything that was... well, anything at all. Normally, when he was awake, I had my eye on him 99.8% of the time. But, this weekend, I actually waited until he was awake to mop. He likes its! He likes to help. He likes to take his broom (yes, we bought him a miniature play broom) and help me sweet. And he likes to be adorable while he does it. So, it's a bit of a weird 180 on when I choose to do some tasks.
The problem is that he's still a toddler and walking is still pretty new to him. Well, when you take a little guy who's not a pro at walking, and then you add the fact that he's not wearing shoes or socks, then you add in a wet floor... Well, he took a spill. He slipped and landed right on his back. Imagine the old banana peal gag where the feet just upend themselves. That was him. Which wasn't all that bad. Accidents happy, and honestly, he didn't even cry. Not even a whimper. He just got back up and decided to keep on trucking.
Now, this is where I failed as a father. I didn't, at that point, after watching my son take a spill, attempt to put socks or shoes on him. I didn't do anything. I just watched him get back up and then take his next three steps further into the wet kitchen and then fall flat on his back. This time, he did cry. I actually felt really terrible about it. At that point, guilt weighing heavy on me for being so stupid, I rectified the situation.
Then, today, I decided to be brave with the boy. I took his pants off and let him wander around pantless. I brought his little toilet out by his toys and every ten minutes asked him if he needed to pee-pee or poo-poo. Well, I guess I needed to ask more often then that. He was naked for about 45 minutes, and I turned my back, and he pooped on the carpet. Then, another 45 minutes later, he peed on the carpet. The second one, I sort of saw coming. And, to his credit, he actually peed on (not really in) his toilet a little while he whizzed on the carpet. The poop. The pooping he just kind of did where he felt like. He didn't even try to get to the toilet.
After the peeing, I put pants back on him. I figured I'd failed enough for one weekend.
So, on Saturday I decided to mop my kitchen. Which, I have to say, made me reach an odd realization. I used to wait until the boy was napping before I tried to do anything that was... well, anything at all. Normally, when he was awake, I had my eye on him 99.8% of the time. But, this weekend, I actually waited until he was awake to mop. He likes its! He likes to help. He likes to take his broom (yes, we bought him a miniature play broom) and help me sweet. And he likes to be adorable while he does it. So, it's a bit of a weird 180 on when I choose to do some tasks.
The problem is that he's still a toddler and walking is still pretty new to him. Well, when you take a little guy who's not a pro at walking, and then you add the fact that he's not wearing shoes or socks, then you add in a wet floor... Well, he took a spill. He slipped and landed right on his back. Imagine the old banana peal gag where the feet just upend themselves. That was him. Which wasn't all that bad. Accidents happy, and honestly, he didn't even cry. Not even a whimper. He just got back up and decided to keep on trucking.
Now, this is where I failed as a father. I didn't, at that point, after watching my son take a spill, attempt to put socks or shoes on him. I didn't do anything. I just watched him get back up and then take his next three steps further into the wet kitchen and then fall flat on his back. This time, he did cry. I actually felt really terrible about it. At that point, guilt weighing heavy on me for being so stupid, I rectified the situation.
Then, today, I decided to be brave with the boy. I took his pants off and let him wander around pantless. I brought his little toilet out by his toys and every ten minutes asked him if he needed to pee-pee or poo-poo. Well, I guess I needed to ask more often then that. He was naked for about 45 minutes, and I turned my back, and he pooped on the carpet. Then, another 45 minutes later, he peed on the carpet. The second one, I sort of saw coming. And, to his credit, he actually peed on (not really in) his toilet a little while he whizzed on the carpet. The poop. The pooping he just kind of did where he felt like. He didn't even try to get to the toilet.
After the peeing, I put pants back on him. I figured I'd failed enough for one weekend.