I’ve noticed that I haven’t written about poop in awhile. Posting about poop (and/or spit up) used to be a fairly regular thing here on The Open Door. But our world doesn’t revolve around Charlotte’s bodily fluids and breast milk anymore, and Charlotte does so many more interesting things these days compared to her old poop explosions of yore. (Thankfully, the old poop explosions of yore are no more. Oh my gosh I’m clever.) This is yet another reminder of Charlotte’s imminent end of infancy coming up in about six weeks. Cue the waterworks.
It’s hard not to be sentimental when you know each year is going to seem to go by even faster than the one before. Early this morning I helped with Iowa’s Kappa chapter’s initiation and met a couple mothers that had come to surprise their daughters. Initiation is lovely and emotional on its own, but throwing in those surprised daughters gets me every time.
And then (of course) I start worrying about Charlotte at college. Please don’t go out alone, or walk alone at night. Do NOT go home with strangers, and always lock your door. And remember to turn off your oven. Don’t microwave plastic either. Oh, and that no-beer-before-liquor rhyme — remember that. And please please please remember to wear underwear and skirts that cover both butt cheeks. (Cleavage is okay because, if you’re anything like me, you won’t have any anyway. Sorry.)
Oh dear. I need to stop. She’s not even one yet.
Here’s Sprouty laughing at me:
Perhaps I should mention that watching Charlotte grow up is the best thing about my life. I really wouldn’t want her to stay tiny forever. There was way too much poop.