Here's what my poor Baby's hands looked like 2 months ago. Keep in mind he's only 3!
So...we started out with a bang. Soap, scrape, medicine, tape. Every night. I had my doubts, for sure, but rather than BURNING MY BABY WITH LIQUID NITROGEN, I was determined (and cautiously optimistic) that this process would garner results. Hopefully before his prom.
Soap, scrape, medicine, tape.
But some hectic nights it was just soap, scrape, medicine.
Or soap, medicine.
Or simply shortened to soap (on bath nights - which aren't every night).
Every couple of days, Baby would squeak, "'Dis gonna work Mom? My warts be all gone?"
Rather than portraying any doubt whatsoever, I would firmly nod my head and say, "Yup. The doctor told us to do this, remember? He said this would work. We just need to be patient, okay? It will work!"
And Baby would nod solemnly in agreement. Taking my lead to think positively.
Guess what? (The pics below were taken last night.)
IT WORKED! (The bump on his right thumb is a callous from sucking it.)
We kept the faith and trudged through the process, he and I.
And have success to show for it!
(But please don't ask me where the warts actually went when they fell off...because I don't know. *full body shiver*)
This post about grossness...errr...optimism brought to you courtesy of Fishful Thinking Friday over at my friend Tiffany's R Family Diaries. Head on over to check out her contest!