A few days ago I was in the bathroom. And, as many of you can relate to, my children inevitably end up there with me more times than not. On this particular day, Owen discovered the toilet paper stand, which is a free standing type. It was great fun for him, and as hard as I tried I could not convince him otherwise. He pulled it down and I grabbed it before it bopped him on the head. Then, as I was occupied (for like 7 seconds, I swear) he pulled himself up and figured out how to unroll the toilet paper, which was much more fun. Emma thought she needed a turn too, so it wasn't long before there was toilet paper everywhere and a baby who did not want to sit down.
After I had the toilet paper rolled back up, I noticed Owen chewing. Oh boy. The standard finger sweep in his mouth did not produce anything. Clearly, he had ingested some of that wonderful t.p. The boy does not have a stomach capable of handling all of his impromptu snacks, so it was a matter of seconds before he began to gag.
The amazing thing was my reaction. As he began to make to sounds associated with eating things that should not be eaten, I calmly held him and instructed Emma to take a step backwards. I held onto my son and made sure that he was positioned on the rug, and as the toilet paper came up, I had the presence of mind to wait for round two, which came a moment later. I then plopped him on the floor, wiped him up and gathered the rug up to throw into the washer. My blood pressure did not rise, I didn't yell at Emma, I didn't freak out in the slightest. I was calm. Calm! No panicking. I marveled at this uncharacteristic approach of mine (I am the one who once ripped my husband's head off because Emma "is bleeding!" and he was calm while I was not) and was pleased with the conclusion that I came up with for this phenomenon.
I am officially the mom of...a boy.
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