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...or something like that. My mother always said "Life is what happens when you have something else planned." And the last months were no exception around here. Nothing particularly earth-shaking, just life. And lots of it, to the extent that I had very little spare time for much of anything else.

That and I STILL haven't gotten the computer fixed (the adage of the shoemaker's children going bare comes to mind).

Ah well.

Jacob's doing fabulously - 20 months now (how is that possible??? Time seems to have sped up.)and beginning to show a mild interest in potty training. We're not pushing it but if he has a successful episode we make much of it.

However, pride can go before a rather unpleasant fall...

(Warning: the following post contains brief nudity and bathroom humor. Literally. Parents will nod sagely, all others may experience nausea and disgust.)




Sooooo. There we were on Wednesday night... Jacob's happily splashing around in his bath - his favorite activity of the evening. He looks up suddenly, and looks very concerned. "Oh," says he, "Ohhhhhhhh. Ooh." And small bubbles began issuing forth, prompting some squirming and worried wrinkles across his brow.

Being an experienced mother (like that means diddly), I said "Jacob, would you like to sit on your potty??"
"Yes! mm. YES!"

And I scooped him out of the bath and set him on his Winnie the Pooh potty and noted the clenching of tummy muscles and more squirming and then he held veeerrrrrry still and got that faraway look. And I congratulated myself for recognizing the signs of impending poopdom.

And yes, Jacob pooped his first Potty Poop, a great grand stinker right there in the Pooh Potty. And daddy was called to witness this, The First Poop. And daddy ran off to call the grandmother and tell HER. (And I thought to myself "good lord, only parents celebrate CRAP, no wonder everyone thinks we're insane). Jacob was terribly pleased with himself and after getting cleaned up a bit, went back into his bath so I could clean the Pooh Potty.

Except he'd no sooner sat down then he sits bolt upright and looked freaked out. And I grabbed him up and sat him back on the pot and he proceeds to go again. Hmmm. I was sure he'd been done. And that one was um.... not so er... well.... firm.

But finally he's done and gets cleaned and back into the tub. And as I am cleaning the little potty, KA-BLAMMO.

Assplosion.

In the bathtub.

Yeah, they all do it at least once, but this? This was especially bad. I learned later that he'd been fed apple juice and lots of it - a sure fire recipe for tush-related disaster.

Ack. Ack. I grab the child and stand him on the rug while I try and grab bathtoys before they're... awwwwwwww noooo, Jacob sat down on the rug, making a big brown assprint and... no! oh hell no... he stands back up, grabbing my pants legs as he does and now I have handprints of... augh!!!! the wall! not the wall! Ohhhhh the guest towels. Ladies and gentlemen, a veritable shitstorm is taking place in my bathroom. I'd rate it about an F3 on the Fujita scale.

finally, the bathwater finishes draining, I grab all the toys and plunk them into the sink for a good cleaning & I start scrubbing down the boy. I get a diaper on him, send him in to daddy and proceed to disinfect the bathroom. Ten minutes later, the child is back in the tub and incredibly pleased with himself.

1 - he was highly praised for pooping on the potty. 2 - his tummy feels SO much better and 3 - he got TWO baths.


Mommy? After the boy went happily to bed, mommy got BEER. and an awful lot of laundry.