You wouldn't believe the stuff I've pulled out of Charming's mouth this week.
Aside from the obvious things like dirt and grass, or even stale bread crusts and fossilized cheese from the couch, there have been some doozies. Take, for instance the night light light bulb. Or the Styrofoam ball (where did that come from?). How about the wadded up ball of saturated toilet paper? (He also used some saturated toilet paper for wall art. He's very creative.)
Will he eat watermelon? No.
The thing about having the fourth child is that it is simply impossible to baby proof your home. Diligence only goes so far and there are tiny toy pieces everywhere. Or rocks in the backyard. Whatever. I'm just continually praying for safety for this little one. He gets into stuff like no child before him.
And I'll leave it there for today because I'm having tiny panic attacks. I'm over committed and understaffed (there's only one of me after all) and shouldn't dally over a blog that, while therapeutic (and my excuse for not journaling my children's lives), isn't an obligation.
Say a prayer for me...and my baby. That we both survive this year.