Tiny Heinies On Parade

"Mommy! Listen to what my teacher says at school:
Please sit your tiny heinies on the floor!
Heeeheeehee! Isn't that funny? Will you call me tiny heiny for the rest of my life?"

This was Ryan at 6pm this evening.

Speaking of tiny heinies, now that Jax is "walking", he began experimenting with personal space and the subsequent crossing of at Storytime today. He'd lurch his fat little hamhocks at the nearest warm body, grinnin' away, then dive bomb into said body's arm, shoulder, lap, head, etc...

No accidents here -- this kid is super-intentionally just trying to see exactly how far his cuteness will take him. How can I tell? Oh, I guess the giggling, grinning and farting gave it away. Have I not told you how he has started farting when he laughs? This would be cute, except it just leads to an exhausting circle of laughing & farting, seeing as how our laughing at him leads to him laughing at us, farting, us laughing...you get the idea.

(Although now that I think about it, it may also have something to do with the recent switch from formula to whole milk. While it has lightened our baby-budget load, it's also funkified his diaper loads. They are freakin' wretched. But I digress...)

I'm sad to report that it looks like the sky's the limit on the cuteness-pass, especially since he was able to ellicit the most heart-wrenching emotion from his big sister this afternoon, a mere 5 minutes after she kicked him and said she never wanted to see him again.

Apparently he was trying to climb a chair and knocked it over on top of him, managing to bite his tongue hard enough to draw blood. I wasn't in the room to witness it (MOTY), but Ry was right there giving me the 411 through tears and screams.

"Oh my gosh, Mom! I'm so worried! There was BLEEDED! I saw bleeded in his mouth! He has got bleeded!!!!"

"Ryan, I'm looking at him (from across the room, seeing as how am too lazy to open baby gate and walk to him) and there is no blood. Besides, he's not crying anymore, so he's fine." (MOTY)

"Mom! Please! Just! This! Once! I! Wish! You!Would!Believe ME!!!!!! I'm serious -- there was bleeded in his mouth, I (sob) saw (sob) it (sob), I (sob) promise (hiccup)."

"Okay, Baby. I'll come look closer."

(Huge sigh as I climb over gate -- why unlatch when you can stradle??)

Sure enough, there it was: bleeded on his tongue.

The kid has an 1/8th of an inch of tooth and already he's injuring himself. Couple that with 3 ER vists in his first year of life, and I'm suddenly VERY grateful that we live in walking distance to the hospital.

P.S. Trashing the toys has yet to take effect, but in the name of Spring Cleaning, I will charge ahead! We've already lost Rapunzel, a pig dog, and possibly Ariel (she's "trying" to earn that one back), yet the behavior? No change whatsoever.

Any other suggestions??