After Mark told me several times it would be best to take Beckett somewhere to get his schmeigely hair cut, I finally convinced him to just try cutting it ourselves once. I should have listened. I don't have any pictures of the fiasco. There was no way I could maneuver a camera while Beckett sat and played in the bathroom sink, I fed him a popsicle, a cartoon was running on the DVD player, Mark went at it with the clippers, and Beckett dodged his head around wildly while somehow managing to keep the popsicle in his mouth. His hair looks good on top, and one side, but the other side looks like we attempted shaving steps above his ears. And the back is pretty sketchy too. Basically he looks like he escaped from a Nazi concentration camp. The poor kid had to wear a hat today, and we have an appointment set up at a salon for damage control tomorrow. He also has his one year shots tomorrow. It's definitely not going to be a fun day for him.
Every night we brush our teeth together before Beckett goes to bed. He insists on doing it himself. He usually just chomps on the tooth brush for a while dangling his toes in the sink under the running water. Tonight he studied me spitting in the sink for the first time. Then he leaned over and tried his hardest to attempt spitting. I almost died. He rinsed his tooth brush off and put it back in the drawer. I couldn't believe how my baby suddenly seemed like he was 5 years old in a matter of seconds. Then we walked out of the bathroom and as he realized that meant brushing teeth was over he burst into tears, and I remembered that he is still a baby.
Night three of night weaning went really well! I nursed him just a tiny bit less than the two nights before, and rather than crying when I laid him back in his crib, he went right to sleep on his own. I'm hoping for the same thing tonight and if all goes well, I will reduce the time a little more tomorrow.
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