Friday, January 20, 2012

Potty Training - (Mark A.)

When I was pregnant with our first child someone "advised" me that early parenthood was "all about poop."  Surely, they must be exaggerating, I thought.  Clearly, they were just trying to be funny.  I was well aware I would have to deal with diapers and what they contained.  I was not aware of what all of this would look like.

Pretty much from the moment they hand you the baby bundle in the delivery room you become poop obsessed.  In fact, the hospital has you keep track of each occurrence; color, consistency, frequency, form.  It is truly amazing.  I still cannot believe how easily poop dictates my day, it can even determine the mood of the entire house.  I also cannot believe the ease with which I say the word.

Poop.  Go ahead, say it out loud, I dare you.  Poop.  Now whisper it.  Poop.  Wanna yell it now?  POOP!!!

I have no doubt embarrassed my younger sister, her boyfriend, myself and probably many others on countless occasions (this blog entry possibly being a prime example).  I know I talk about poop too much.  It is basically the reason I have stopped going to civilized gatherings.

Now that our eldest is potty trained we have experienced an excrement evolution.  I will not get into that right now.  As research for this entry, though, I did ask our nearly three-year-old daughter a few questions.  Her answers were, well, very three.  Here is a brief excerpt from our conversation:

Me: Do you wear diapers anymore?
Z: No.  I wear underwear!  With padapullers.  (caterpillars)
Me: Who in our house still wears diapers?
Z: G!
Me: Are you going to help teach G (now ten months old) how to go on the potty when she is old enough?
Z: I will
Me: When do you think she will be old enough?
Z: In six days. 

Potty training, my friends, is not just about ditching the diapers.

Soon after this fine moment, my husband came home in the loaner car we just picked up from the dealership.  As agreed, he took Z back outside with him to see it.  She was quite intrigued with the idea of a borrowed car.  The hubs let her climb in, sit behind the wheel and pretend to drive.  And then, our sweet little babe, who hadn't had an accident in weeks, proceeded to pee all over the cloth seat and herself.  Brilliant. 



  1. I love that Z! And who wouldn't pee a little going from a warm house to the frigid cold to the front seat of a sporty loaner?! Ha!