When You're Belly Button Goes Missing...

As usual, after waking Reilly up this morning, we started going through our day.  It was no different than any other day.  No different at all.  Until it came to his belly button.  Then it became a day like no other.

While I am getting him dressed each morning, we usually talk about our day and then do something "educational."  Sometimes we count, sometimes we sing nursery rhymes, sometimes we sing the ABC's, sometimes we go through body parts.  Today was a body part day.  Until it came to his belly button.

We went through hair, eyes, nose, mouth, neck, arms and then we got to the belly.  For a long time, we had to say, "Do you have a button?" and that would be the only way he would show us his belly.  We've moved past that and now we can say "Where is your belly?" and he pats it.  Not today.  Nope.

We were 90% dressed this morning, only missing socks and shoes when we got to the belly question.  Just a reminder that it was 38 degrees this morning, so we weren't wearing short sleeves and shorts.  This is thermal onesie and sweatpants weather.  So, that's what we wore.  Until the belly question.  After asking Reilly, "Where is your belly?" he got a very sad look on his face and started to whimper.  I thought maybe he had bumped his head or something, so I gave him the once over, saw that he was good to go and repeated the question.  "Reilly, show Mommy your belly."

 OPEN FLOODGATE!

My poor boy was DISTRAUGHT over the fact that he couldn't find his button.  He kept saying "Utton, where at?" and crying.  It was a sad sight.  He kept trying to push his pants down so he could pull up his shirt.  Remember...it's thermal onesie weather.  There was no pulling up the shirt.  I tried to distract him with socks and shoes (his favorite part of getting dressed) and he wasn't having it.  He just kept repeating, "Utton, where at?"  Oh. My. Word.

I tried to get him out of his bedroom by telling him to turn off the TV so we could go (that's his chore) but he wasn't having it.  All I kept hearing in between sad little sobs was, "Utton, where at?"  It was getting hard to bear.

The whole way to Ms. Betsy's, same thing..."Utton, where at?"  I figured he'd get distracted and forget about it.

I picked Reilly up and he was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt.  No thermal onesie. 

Lesson learned.  When you ask the poor child where his belly is, let him find it for Pete's sake,.