Earlier this week, at bedtime, as I was rooting around in Iyyar's drawer for pajamas:
"Iyyar, which pajamas do you want? Do you want the doggie pajamas?" (It's actually a reindeer--pajamas purchased on post-Christmas sale at LL Bean--but he thinks it's a doggie and I haven't corrected him.)
"Not doddie. Dat one moose!"
"It's a moose? I thought it was a doggie."
[with conviction and very great earnestness] "Not! Is moose! Not doddie!"
"Oh, okay. Do you want the moose pajamas then?"
"Which ones do you want?"
"Want it dis one! Want it truck jajamas!"
"Truck pajamas? Okay, you want truck pajamas. Oh wait. Iyyar, we don't have the top of those. They're in the wash. Do you want your doobie [bear] pajamas? Do you want to match Avtalyon?"
[Iyyar surveys his pajama options, then inspects Avtalyon, who is already in doobie jajamas.]
"Okay, you're going to match!"
"Match it baby jajamas! Match it Talyon jajamas!"
"Right, you're going to match Avtalyon's pajamas!"
Eyebrows two inches above normal position, eyes wide: "Also Barak have jajamas!"
"Right, Barak has pajamas too."
"Abba not have jajamas."
"Yeah, he does. You just never see them because he's up before you ."
"Abba has jajamas?"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure."
"Oh." Iyyar considers this. Then, shaking head regretfully, palms pointing skyward,"Not Imma has jajamas."
That's true, actually. My nighttime nursing wardrobe is pretty... eclectic. "No, Imma doesn't have pajamas."
Iyyar looks at me sympathetically. "Not have."
They're going to be called jajamas around here for a while, I think.
In other news, the no-dairy seems to have worked--that plus warm baths plus lots of A & D. He last had dairy last Thursday. Friday was the usual, Saturday morning was awful. Saturday afternoon he started with diarrhea that lasted through Sunday afternoon. Monday was maybe half an hour of crying in the morning, followed by much much more poop. Monday night, as I was putting on his jajamas, I suddenly noticed that his potbelly had vanished. How awful must that have felt? Tuesday night he was back to his sweet troublemaking self; yesterday and today has been normal poopage without fanfare. (Well, normal except that it smells incredibly foul. Can't blame him for that, though, given what I've been feeding him in the roughage and fiber department.) It's so nice to have my happy little boy back.