Self-sufficiency

This is Ryan posting again...

I’ve noted with some curiosity that ever since we added Elliot to team Halverson most of our pictures and blogs have been devoted to Oliver, our friends and random events; he's given just enough blog real estate for just a smattering of pictures. I have not yet come to a conclusion that adequately solves this mystery. I can only hope it does not create lasting harm to him.

Hypothetically, it could be that Elliot really hasn’t provided any Kodak-worthy moments with his seemingly tireless routine of eat, sleep, poop and cry. While totally adorable, lovable and heart-warming to Anna and me, I find little about this to spur much thought or observation other than: “Wow. He stopped crying” or “I can’t believe he fell asleep.” Or “Why doesn’t Anna change him?” (this last one thought, though – to be honest – really does race through my mind, is also totally unfair since she is out-diapering me at a pace of at least 20:1.

It is with this as a backdrop that I must apologize to Elliot that my blog is not about him and his new snazzy cloth-diapers, (which, trust me, deserves some analysis)-- but about Oliver.

Where Oliver struggles in the eating and growing department he does make up in other departments. Let me share one example. Recently, Oliver (who is potty-trained) climbed up on to the toilet for his nightly ritual before going to bed. I will pause to add that my deepest respect goes out to this little man, who, at the tender age of 2.5, has already discovered the pleasures of reading in the bathroom, albeit a book read to him by someone else. If we got the paper, I would be half-tempted to start reading him the latest stats and box-scores from the baseball pages. But I digress.

So, there Oliver is… climbing on to the toilet. He sits down and while no one was in the bathroom to read to him, started looking around. He happened to notice that the roll of toilet paper was exhausted. So, he lifted it out of it holder. Stepped down from the toilet and threw the toilet paper roll in the waste basket. I observed all of this with paternal pride. However, just when I thought he was finished with the task… he came out into the hall, opened a closet door and got a brand new roll of toilet paper! He went back into the bathroom, put it on the holder and snapped it down into place. As he climbed back on to the toilet to finish his real business he nodded his head back and forth as if saying to himself, “ahhhh… everything is in its place, now I can go”.

I was as much amused, as I was full of respect for our little guy. My esteem grew even more when I realized that, given the same situation I would have gotten up and found another bathroom that had toilet paper rather than finding and replacing the roll.

And just for icing on the cake, he flushed and closed the lid.