Brown Showers Brings Trained Bowels

Yesterday Miss Chattyshoes barged in on Scott while he was in the bathroom and thrust her chunky little hand into his urine stream. He seemed surprised by this; I was not.

I suppose around two-years-old is the time when the little ones start to get obsessed with all things potty. I wouldn't have known this with Mr. Busypants, who had no interest in any of it. In fact, he had no interest at three, four, or five. But you have to draw the line somewhere because diapers are stinking expensive.

A few weeks after Mr. Busypants turned five, we finally had it. Changing diapers for two kids had to end. I mean, isn't that one of the perks of having your kids four and a half years apart?

Scott and I had just come back from our first getaway from both kids, I mean, with each other. Five blissful days in Breckenridge and I saw the yellow writing in the snow: The diapers had to go. So when we got home, Scott and Alex said goodbye to the last "Cars" diaper and the next morning we went all underwear on him.

I knew he could hold his urine, but to date he hadn't gone #2 on the pot, so all week I anticipated what every mother looks forward to: scraping and rinsing poop out of the undies after a missed attempt--if getting to the toilet was even an attempt on his part.

Seven days passed and Mr. Busypants clenched his little cheeks into constipation. He didn't know how to poop on the toilet and he knew he shouldn't poop in his underwear. What's a kid to do?

We snuck up on him unsuspectingly. To this day I feel bad about this, but we had no choice. With a tackle, we went all suppository on him then rushed him to the bathroom. I realized our poor planning as I struggled to open the Take Along Thomas covered bridge that was taking a long time to break into. Meanwhile the liquid glycerin gold took care of business as the brown showers started to pour.

One poop on the toilet was all he needed. Daytime potty training. Check.

As for Miss Chattyshoes, she's so into the potty she can hardly contain her excitement (or her loads, for that matter). Just yesterday at Miss Sassypants' house, the dynamic duo took turns getting their post-lunch, pre-nap change. Miss Sassypants shouted with excitement, "Poop in the potty" as I chiseled the sticky mess off Miss Chattyshoes' chubby cheeks. The girls are hardly able to contain their excitement as I flushed their latest accomplishment (they share everything) down the toilet.

"Bye-bye poop," they wave with their little hands millimeters from the flushing pool. I understood that excitement just over a year ago when I said "Bye-bye Cars diapers."

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