Training: Potty and Otherwise.

The Man left for training this week, and Little Man decided that he wanted to train too. The potty kind. Let the record show that I was planning to keep Littles in diapers for a very long time for the obvious reason that I care more about my sanity than the environment. Or our bank account. But since Daddy was potty training (Little's words, not mine), so must Little. Plus, a little birdy had told him that if he could "peepee in the potty" he would get Thomas underpants, and all things Thomas are to be immeasurably coveted.

Little Man gave me a freebie for Tuesday since I had to spend the day running errands and cleaning up the house, which looked like a regular Oklahoma tornado had descended upon it after a 4 day weekend and lots of gear being unpackaged and re-packed by the Man. Then Wednesday we went shopping for Thomas undies and I convinced Little that they needed to be washed before wearing. And I took as long as possible with the laundry (have I mentioned that I really don't want to potty train this child?). But Thursday after breakfast the jig was up. Even though the undies still had to be dried (I told you that I was stalling), he decided that potty training was On like Donkey Kong. So he ran around the house with a t-shirt and a naked butt for an hour while the dryer ran. I closed the blinds so that my neighbor's little girls wouldn't be scarred for life. I had no such luck as Littles kept giggling, "You toot! You toot!" as he rampaged through the house and I imagined poop spraying all over my furniture. Yes, he speaks of himself in the second person. I suppose it's better than the Royal We.

Anyway, once Little Man was bribed by Thomas undies, stickers, and the promise of one episode of Andy Griffith should he make it to the end of the day diaper free, we made some headway. Yes, Andy Griffith. I blame my husband. Of course, I did have to bully him into drinking water or I think he would've held it indefinitely. Then I took the afternoon off. Because I'm lazy and I believe that potty training should be done in extremely small increments of time if having to be done at all.

Today we are back at it, and by back at it I mean that the moment I got on the phone to call the fence guy to come by and check our fence since Trigger met us on the sidewalk after our run this morning and the gate was still locked (for the life of me, I think he vaulted the fence), anyway, at the very moment I am trying to leave a voicemail, Alex looks up at me and says, "Mommy, you peed!" and I see a puddle forming at his feet. Naturally, he managed to get it on Rolly, his favourite stuffed animal, as well as on his James undies and socks. The washing machine is running already. And somehow, when I took his underwear off, he managed to flip the last few drops in my face. No lie. It was lovely. The kid has skills. Side note: boy parts are weird; a girl would never do that.

Anyway, my sister told me to blog about our potty training adventure, and I told her that was never going to happen. I know moms who update their facebook status every time their offspring squeezes out the tiniest drop of pee, and while I think they are incredibly dedicated mothers, I've never wanted to emulate that, but Amanda told me that your lives would not be complete without hearing The Little Man Potty Training Story: Just the Funny Parts. And this was the sign unto me: as soon as I started writing this blog, Alex told me he needed to go potty and was duly pulled out of the bathtub to let a whole stream go into the big person toilet.

Now I just get to wait until those blueberries he ate for breakfast come out. Yay? Until then I'm going to record myself saying, "Littles, do you need to pee? Do you need to poop?" and play it on a five minute loop since I'm already sounding like a broken record.