Full disclosure

So, I have been asked if Barak really is permanently cute and wonderful, or if I only blog the good parts. He is, of course, permanently cute and wonderful, and yes, generally I only blog the good parts. I tend to leave out things like last Friday night, when he sat on the potty for hours and hours and HOURS, holding it in DELIBERATELY, and then pishing all over the floor moments later. I also tend to leave out things like the following Shabbos afternoon, which doesn't even bear blogging about. Instead, I blog about things like this afternoon, when I finally got him three more packages of underwear, and delighted his little toddler heart with underpants that have Elmo on them. How does he know from Elmo? We don't have a TV. He's never seen Sesame Street. I asked Ada about this. "They all know Elmo," she said darkly. "They know through baby osmosis."

Today was better. I was confident enough of his empty bladder to take him out in the stroller this afternoon, with Iyyar in the Snugli. And he did fine, until we stopped by MHH's school and visited Barak's favorite secretary in the school office. She let him climb up into her swivel chair and type, and then we had to leave, and this development displeased Barak most greatly. He had something of a fit, and, well, so much for the dry underwear. Oh well. It's only what, Day Nine?

Happily, the bathroom entertainment has just been greatly improved by a Most Marvelous Box from Grandma E. Said Box arrived yesterday afternoon. I should have known based on experience that this would not be just a small box with a couple of books and some leftover sock yarn, which she had led me to expect; last year she said she'd send me some leftover wool to spin and I got, not the mailing envelope I was looking for, but a tremendous box full of all kinds of woolly marvels. Yesterday, we opened the Box of Wonders, which contained not only a treasure trove of books for Barak's potty reading pleasure, including a copy of Richard Scarry's Counting Book (which Barak sat and read all by himself for a good half hour this afternoon while I took care of the baby--verily a book worth its weight in gold), but enough yarn for four pairs of socks, light-up keychains for Barak and his buddy, muffin tins and papers for Barak the Muffin Man, a potholder for the dairy side of the kitchen (sorely lacking to date), and other delights too numerous to mention.

One of the books was Hershel and the Hanukkah Goblins, which involves some very scary, er, goblins. MHH read it to Barak tonight, complete with theatrical gasps of fear and horror and very dramatic voices. Barak was totally in love. "Barak, is it scary?" "'Cary! More 'cary! Gobbin 'cary!" And he gasped theatrically and covered his eyes in mock terror. "Did Grandma give you that book?" "Gimma!" Gimma is very good to us...

They're both asleep now (Barak and Iyyar--MHH is at shul), Barak, unfortunately, with wet underwear which he did not allow me to change. (He's not giving up Elmo so fast.) Iyyar is still turbo-nursing, and as many times as I tell him that the heft of his diapers and the emergence of a fourth chin belie his many fervent claims of malnutrition, he still feels the need to nurse hourly during the day. But at night he nurses with efficiency, determination, and three-hour chunks of sleep in between, so I'm not complaining too much. I have a toilet-training two-year-old and a six-week-old baby, and I still have time to blog, so I can't ask for much more than that.