One of Those Things Is Not Like the Other

In an effort to lighten the mood around here, let's play a game of Two Truths and a Lie.

I've got three little scenarios down below: Two of them are true. One of them is a bold-faced lie.

I want you to guess which one of them is the lie.

Post it in the comments below, and I'll post the answers on Monday. (I've got something else up my sleeve for tomorrow.)

Get ready, get set, and go!

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Scenario #1:

Last week, I went in for my annual lady-parts exam at my midwives. I sat down in the waiting room to wait my turn, and I was immediately ambushed by four children under the age of 6.

They were as cute as can be, asking if they could "pet my baby," holding Ella's hand, patting my knees, and all talking at once.

Their mother, pregnant with her sixth child I later found out, smiled wearily at me and reminded them to be gentle with the baby.

Then, after the fascination with Ella had worn off, they kids went back to playing with their toys.

Well, all except the oldest girl, who couldn't have been older than 5, maybe 6.

She sat next to me, holding Ella's hand, telling me she "liked [my] pretty baby," when she stopped, thought for a moment, and then asked a question.

"Did your baby come out of the hole God made between the place where you go pee-pee and your bottom? That's where my mommy's babies came out of. Is that where your baby came out of? Your hole between your pee-pee and your bottom?"

I stopped dead in my tracks, lips trembling, trying desperately not to laugh.

Then, almost without thinking, I quipped back, "Yep, that's where my baby came out of. In fact, that's where most babies come out of, I think."

The little girl smiled and went back to playing with Ella.

***

Scenario #2:

Thanks to the recommendation of some of my like-minded, natural-mama friends, I decided to look into elimination communication, or a method of potty-training your infant, where you teach them to use the restroom with sound cues, etc.

It's based on the idea that babies don't like the feeling of sitting in a dirty diaper, and you can use that motivation, plus the cues all babies give when they are about to urinate or poop, to teach them to use the bathroom on command. It's used widely in other countries, and before the age of 1, children who use elimination communication are largely potty-trained.

It totally made sense to me, so Ella and I started practicing during the day.

When I noticed her making poop-like grunts, sounds, or faces, I'd make a whooshing sound and hold her over the potty or sink.

Within a few days of doing this, our success rate was better than 50 percent. I'd take off her diaper if she began to grunt, hold her over the potty, make a whooshing sound, and, believe it or not, she'd actually poop!

Now, we're working on finding out her cues for urination and implementing elimination communication there, as well.

It's incredible. At this rate, I'm excited to have a baby who may be potty-trained before the age of 1.

***

Scenario #3:

Last week, I was hungry.

I don't know if it was that I was hormonal or that my kid had been nursing like a champ.

But man, every time I turned around, I'd feel famished.

I'd been warned by my midwives not to let myself get too hungry, as that can be a detriment to your milk supply.

So, all week, I was a snacking machine.

Still, largely, I was unsatisfied. I wanted something. Something I couldn't put my finger on.

Something...something bad.

Now, I talk a big game. I'm all "I eat organic and natural and raw and healthy."

And I do. Ninety-nine percent of the time.

But sometimes? I just want something full of sugar and fat and all the crud I don't normally put in my body.

So, when my husband got home on Friday afternoon, I said it.

"We're going out for hot dogs."

And, believe it or not, we did.

At a local restaurant known for their "colorful" franks, I ate a big old dog filled with tons of toppings (home-made black-bean hummus, grilled onions, slaw, and sweet relish), along with crispy, crunchy sweet-potato fries, and few nachos from his plate.

I even had a small, sugar-filled lemonade to boot.

It was glorious.

And I kind of want to go back this weekend.

***

Now, it's your turn. Take a wild gander at which of the above are my truths. And, of course, which of the above is my lie.

There are obvious advantages to my real-life friends and some of you on Twitter, but that's life. It's not fair.

But as long as you play, it sure can be fun.

***

Happy Wednesday, everyone!