The other morning, I ran upstairs with Caden to change his diaper, leaving Brooklyn playing in the living room and Nolan in his bouncy chair in the kitchen where he'd been keeping me company while I did the dishes.
As I was changing Caden's diaper, I heard Nolan start to fuss. A little, then a little louder. Then I heard a pitter-patter of toddler feet. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. The fussing stopped. I didn't think too much of it until I came back down the steps to find:
This is bewildering.
What just happened to me?
Imma try to eat this thing by my face.
Oh yes, those helpful pitter-pattering toddler feet went back and forth, back and forth, back and forth to bring Nolan every baby toy they could find, including Sophie the Giraffe, a Nuby teething ring, and a crinkly-sounding elephant toy. Plus a blanket, for good measure. Everything a baby might need. And, apparently, it worked.
Or at least distracted Nolan enough in the confusion of suddenly being covered in toys to tide him over until I could get his own diaper changed.