Potty Training ups & Downs

Everybody poops.

A parent knows this best of all (perhaps excluding some caregivers, but we're in the same boat, there.)

 Oh, please, before I go on any further, let me admit the following vocabulary for your approval:

potty = toilet
pee-pee = urine
big-boy undies = underwear
poop = feces
poopies = feces
plop-plops = feces
shit = any fecal matter that does not go in either a diaper or the toilet.
penis = badly aimed, dangerous firing, urine expulsion unit.

Now that we know the terms in our house, let me continue.  Over the past year, Daniel has been expressing interest in using the potty.  We, as we should be, are always thrilled.  We cheer when he sits on the potty.  We clap when he goes into the bathroom and just farts.  We break out the potty treats; a couple of M&Ms for pee-pee, and a mini snickers for poopies.  We call our friends, call our families, and post of Facebook when he does anything of substance.

I'm not apologizing for the posts.

For the past three days Daniel has been in big-boy undies, and has been dry during the day most of the time.

Yesterday, he shit in his underwear because he was didn't want to stop eating dinner.  That was fun.  So, we thought we had emptied the contents of the underwear into the toilet and wrapped up his soiled clothes in a bag to be washed.  That night, down stairs at the washer, I pulled out the clothes along with another load ( it cost $1.50 wash/ $1.50 dry so we don't waste a wash) and tossed it all in the washer on hot.  When I went to put the load in the dryer it all smelled like shit.  Oh yes, the whole load.  I picked up a portion of the clothes to be surprised by little poop pellets stuck to the inside of the washer.  Fun times.  I pulled out the clorox wipes, wiped down the parts I found and ran it again.

I wish that were the end of the day, but it continues...

This evening, both Amelia and Daniel yelled that they needed to use the potty ( at the same time.)  I told Amelia she could go first. She sits there, farts, and gets down.  YAY!!! Then, while Daniel actually goes poopies in the potty ( High Fives, YAY!'s and a Snickers later) Amelia is still sans diaper and she squats down on the tiles just next to the toilet where Daniel is still sitting.

"Amelia!" I say, "No going pee-pee's on the floor please, Daniel is almost done!"
To which she replies "no pee-pee Mommy!"
And, to her credit, she was right.  In a perfectly round pile, she left me her own pile of shit.

Now picture this, I'm wiping poop off the floor, off her feet, off her butt, and then, trying to wash my hands before Daniel is done and needs to get wiped as well. 

I have Clorox wipes piled, used diapers stacked, and two half naked kids laughing at each other.

At least the kid wipes were flushable.

And now...bath time.

Why can't I shit, too?

You know that book, Everybody Poops?

I'm sure you've heard of it.

It doesn't address what happens at our house:



Daddy poops in the morning, he's allowed as much time as he needs.

Amelia poops in her diaper, whenever she feels the need.

Daniel poops in his diaper, then pulls off his diaper, shows it to me, then throws it around the living room.

But is Mommy allowed to poop?

No.

Finally, Daddy comes home from work... he is sweaty and tired, so he goes to clean up, wash up, take a shower...maybe he poops again.

Who knows, they're in there forever.

But, when Mommy needs to poop after everyone is fed, and Daddy is home to watch the kids, Mommy gets one minute before Daddy says:

"Who's ready for splish-splash time?"

When of course I chime in... "You're just going to have to wait a few minutes, please"

Then Daddy says " OK kids, we'll have to wait a minute while Mommy finishes in the potty."

I kid you not, not one minute later he says:

"Alright, splish splash time"

When of course, I yell back.."Just a minute please!"

And here is where it gets fun...

Daddy says " I have Daniel taking his dirty diaper off and swinging it in the air over here!!"

( as if it's the first time he's had to deal with that)

To which I yell back " You want me to pull the shit out of my ass for you?"

Please, do Mommy's ever have enough time?

What do those boys do in the bathroom for 20 minutes at a time.

I want 20 minutes, too!!!!

Apparently he thought this was the funniest thing he ever heard me say...

See?  I can be funny.

I learned it from YOU, dad!

There are some things you just know you'll use to torture your children when they are older.  Thankfully, when I was a kid if I tore up a picture, it was gone forever...unless my folks wanted to go through hundreds of unsorted negatives.

They never did.

Now, I think I would like to see some of those old pictures, perhaps my embarrassment will have turned to "awwww."

Alas, I will never know.

And now, I present for your viewing pleasure, a picture to end all pictures.

An image to top all images.

A picture that my son will hate me for, for at least a month...

...maybe more.

Aptly titled:

I learned it From Watching YOU, DAD!

Isn't potty training the best thing ever?

Scat, scat. CRAP!

Splish Splash time is one of the most wonderful times of the whole day.  And do you know why that is?

Both kids, contained, getting clean, and having a blast doing it.  I sit on a bath mat, roll up any sleeves, and put a hand towel over the edge of the tub or on my lap. 

I still get wet.  Depending on which cup, bowl, bucket, or toy the decides to play with will usually determine how wet I get.  It's all ok, mostly fun, and safe.

But, like all good things, they must come to an end.

Sure, it's tough drying them both off, getting them into jammies, and brushing their teeth.  I take Amelia out first, dry her off and get her dressed all the while talking to Daniel who is 10 feet away.  Still in the tub.  Usually there are two of us so one catches one and the other, well you get the idea.

Tonight I was making dinner.  Raw chicken is not the best thing to touch your clean children with, so Brian did most of the washing and drying of Amelia and I watched Daniel until he was finished.  For a moment he lowered his head down so I only saw the top of his.

"Daniel, Bubba, whactcha doin?"

"Hahahahahahahahahahahahahah...SPLASH!"

"Having fun?"

"Splish splash!"

Now, I'm standing in the doorway and he starts to throw what at first looks like torn up pieces of his foam bathtub letters.

"Oh, Baby, don't do that, please, how are we supposed to play with our... WHAT IS THIS????  Is this poop? Daniel did you...."  I go over to the tub and look into the cloudy tub... 

"CRAP! Nooo, Daniel, oh gross, we don't poop in the tub, and you're throwing it all over the bathroom!  No Bubba..BRIAN??  I need you please. "

Now at this point I still have raw chicken on my hands, but I can't really decide which would be worse...raw chicken, or swimming in poop.  Thankfully I don't have to decided because Brian comes running in steps in a ball of poop I missed, scoops up the boy while I am scooping the poop with a slatted ladle ( what would you have used, ey?)  I drain the tub, scoop the little pieces off the floor and tell Brian that now Daniel needs a good shower and lather up.

One miserable shower later with poor Brian who had taken the shower head off and just power washed Daniel, and Splish splash time was over.

Finally the kid is clean, dinner is consumed, and everyone is settling in for nite nite time.  The bathroom still needs to be sanitized.  Once the little scat scatterer goes to sleep, I'll get on that.  I don't want him to see me do it else he makes some bizarre "If I do this, then she will do this" sort of connection in that head of his.

Hope your night has been cleaner than ours!

Wait what is that smell?  What?  Crap!

2Y22D: L..M....N.....O......Q.....R.....

What's missing from this string of letters?

H...I...J...K...L...M...N...O...Q...R...S...T?

The Pee, you say?

That's right.

The Pee.

It's missing from the alphabet because it is ON MY CARPET!!!

Oh yes, this was going to be a post about toddler activities, but it was magically transformed into a fast burst affirming our need to potty train.

...or at least put him in overalls every day so he cant take his pants and diaper off.

Like I said, this is going to be a fun year.

2Y8D: HOLY SH*T

I thought it was me.

I, however, thought I sprayed the Fabreeze.

Why then, was the smell getting stronger, and how did my son get chocolate pudding all over his hands?

Wait, I didn't give him chocolate pudding today!  Holy SH*T!

Literally.

Gross.

Really, truly, unquestionably... gross.

My angel did his business, then, I can only suppose, wanted to make sure it was still there.  I'm here to testify that yes indeed, it was still there. 

After the appropriate diaper change, it only took 30 minutes or so to get the evidence either put in the laundry pile, cleaned off the couch, wiped off the changing table, cleaned off his hands,  and wiped off his entire back.

I wish he were as interested in the potty as he is with his own poo.