Geneva, tell me about your day.

"Maya up and down and ride the bike. A back up and down. Down, Maya bonk and down and head and down. Head Maya down. Mama turtles in water. Rock. Play out that. Home. Dog bark. I loves Dada, Maya, my Dada."





For anyone needing translation, Geneva, Maya and I spent the morning coloring and then took a bike trip to the Children's Museum. Maya took a swan dive into a chair and Geneva was extremely concerned. Maya recovered, but has an enormous purple bruise to show for it. We looked at the turtles (real) and the snakes (pretend), took turns behind the counter at the general store, then headed outside for a picnic lunch. It was a fabulous day.

Shouldn't all days end like this?

Poop! (There it is)

In the Zoglman household, we girls don't really venture out of the house until the afternoon. In fact, some of us don't even put pants on until lunchtime.

Here's why:

My big girl poops in the toilet every morning! I know, I know, it's in terrible taste to post bowel movement pictures on the internet, but I am so excited I could just-- well, you know. Geneva is, too. Here she's signing "toilet" with both hands.

And for anyone who still wasn't sure what was going on in that first picture, Geneva is delighted to clear up any misunderstandings.

There are some downsides to this process, of course, such as the fact that I spend most of every morning cleaning up the pee which my darling child is not yet able to control. There's also the fact that when we're out of the house and Geneva hears the call of nature she becomes very upset because she doesn't know where the bathroom is. And because I, in a stroke of non-genius, decided to provide incentive by reading Calvin and Hobbes to her whenever she sat on the toilet, she now yells "poop!" whenever she wants Mommy to drop what she's doing and sprint to her side in order to read comics. It gets really bad around the time I start making dinner.

Messes, freakouts and false alarms aside, I really am thrilled. I'm thrilled for Geneva, who is taking yet another monster step toward independence. And of course I'm thrilled for myself, a weary changer and scraper and washer of cloth diapers. Every dirty diaper I don't have to handle is cause for celebration. A Kodak moment, if you will. So yes, I'm posting pictures. I hope you'll all understand.