Inevitably Keely

I should start off by saying that I think the whole idea that because Finn is a boy we are destined to lots of accidents, stitches, broken limbs, etc is totally not cool. Not cool, but (let's face it) still very true. Just about anyone who has ever met my son knows he's... um, active. He lives to climb trees, walls, bookcases, dressers, dollhouses, etc. My son looks at everything in terms of "Can I scale it?" or "Can I demolish it?" or "Can I build something, scale it and then demolish it?" Just this past Monday I was telling friends that I'm of the mind that he needs to fall a few times and learn that he's not invincible, and that maybe then he'd quit climbing. Other people watch him do what he loves best and I can see them having internal freak outs. Daniel and I, on the other hand just shake our heads and let him have at it. It's not that we want him to get hurt, we were just kind of indifferent to it. We were waiting for the in...

* - This post is about bodily functions and potty training. If you are going to be grossed out by this (maybe you should read "Everyone Poops") you should probably just click out of this and go do something else. If you're not afraid (or you are an experienced potty trainer and/or parent/parent-to-be) go ahead and read this. Just don't say I didn't warn you. ;) About an hour ago I was sitting at my computer working on trying to write (which hasn’t come easily at all for a long time now) when all of a sudden I felt something warm on my foot. Like, shock to the system warm that immediately made my brain think I was bleeding, except there was no pain. I looked down at my foot and then up at my son who was completely naked. He had just peed on me. Inside, I screamed (because EW! he just peed ON MY FOOT!) but on the outside, I was calm. Well, fairly calm. “Finnegan Emery. We’re not supposed to pee on people!” He looked at me with that lower lip sticking far out (he’s ...