the trials of Joseph

It's been a trying week for Joseph. He had his first cold, which he's still not quite over. According to Scott, who caught the same cold, it was very unpleasant. Poor Joseph spent most of the weekend trying to sort out his priorities: cry and be held, or play, crawl, and stand? He could not decide, so usually wound up crawling around while crying, then crying while being held. Very sad.

It was revealed to Joseph, as it is revealed to all children, that the best place to wipe your nose is on your mother's shoulder (or pants, or hair, or whatever presents itself). I didn't try to use the nasal syringe because that seemed way worse than a snotty shoulder, you know? How do you clean a syringe? Probably in some revolting hands-on way. At least my shirt can go right in the washing machine.

Then this morning he banged his head. He has done this many times before, especially now that he's pulling himself up, but this time his head landed on the edge of a low table, and he cut himself, thereby earning his first bandaid. Very sad.


See? Sad.