Poor Noodle Butt.

As I no longer have a 'real' job, I decided to start nannying. It only seemed natural as A) I love kids and B) I could bring Eliot along. Recently I started nannying for two little girls, Bronte, 3 and Parris, 5. Their moms Mia and Catherine found me on Craigslist. They live in this great big house in our neighborhood, they are very pro-breastfeeding, slinging, attachment parenting, organic food, limited TV, etc. In short, we have a lot in common in the parenting arena. Plus, the moms share my sense of humor, which is key.

Parris and Bronte are quite possibly the cutest girls this side of the Mississippi. They are both creative, funny, thoughtful, energetic little people. They are really the kind of kids that should be on television, the Cosby Show maybe, they would totally out-cute Rudy. Parris is an amazing artist; her artwork hangs all over the house. She's really into the details, like drawing eyelashes and ears. She also has amazing handwriting for someone so young. It could easily be confused with my own. Bronte is the performer, she loves to sing and bounce around and is constantly changing her clothes, even matching her undies with her dresses. They both laugh easily and are well on their way to wicked senses of humor.

They both seem to love Eliot. They are very interested in all of his accessories; his toys, his cloth diapers, and his clothes. There was one accessory in particular that no one else in the house (other than the felines) have. On our first morning there, I put E. on the floor to change his diaper, and the girls gathered round for the show. As soon as I pulled off his pee-soaker, Bronte shrieks, "HE HAS A NOODLE!!"

This proclamation leaves both girls in hysterics. Parris, the consummate big sister, helpfully announces very matter-of-factly, "That is his penis." This cracks Bronte up even more, to which she replies, "He has a noodle butt!" And a new nickname was born. Chants of "Noodle Butt! Noodle Butt!" ensued, followed by irrepressible laughing, yes, even by me.

So the baby Butter has a new nickname. At least for these two. Occasionally when he is upset, I find myself saying, "Oh, poor Noodle Butt." All I can picture is our little boy, all grown up into a man, running into Parris and Bronte on the street in 20 years, only to be recognized as Noodle Butt. Hopefully he will have absorbed our smart ass sense of humor by then.

Poor Noodle Butt.


Left to Right: Parris (5), Noodle Butt (5 months) , and Bronte (3)