Potty Training

Between my ever-moving, ever-growing, and ever-changing son and my ever-moving, ever-growing, and ever-changing belly, I have fallen victim to the comforts of my couch more evenings than not. Andrew goes to bed, and my feet go up. It's been way too easy to ignore the brand new laptop begging for blogging, so that I can veg out. I vow to better... at least a little bit better and post more than a couple times a trimester. :)

Potty Training

I will start with the biggest change in the past few weeks. Andrew still loves his big boy bed, so the next big boy change was using the potty. Towards the end of July, I decided to go for it. He was just shy of 2 and a half (still young according to all the articles I read). I found an approach that involved the two of us being on house arrest for several days to get Andrew in the swing of things. He was naked from the waste down, so he didn't have to wrestle with undies while he learned to interpret his urges.

He had a few accidents, even more successes, and many uneventful trips to the potty to read one of our animated potty books. Of all the trials and tribulations, the funniest (for me) and most trying (for Andrew) involved his first diaper-free poop. Andrew was naked from the waste down and playing in the backyard. I walked in to refresh my water, and I hear Andrew running in and excitedly yelling, "I went poo-poo, Mommy. I went poo-poo." My first thought, "Oh my, where?" My second thought, "Is he clean?"

I had Andrew bring me to the scene of his "success", which was outside on the walkway to the shed. I told him that we needed to get clean, and then we would clean up outside. We did our bathroom clean-up; however, when we returned to clean the mess outside, it was not there. (Brace yourselves!) In it's place was a wet spot on the stone and my disgustingly satisfied dog staring up at us. Andrew looked confused and asked, "Mommy, where's my poo-poo?"

Dumbfounded, I muttered the response, "I guess Lady ate it." Wrong answer, mommy. Andrew, instantly horrified, was reduced to tears and yelled, "Lady ate my poo-poo, Lady ate my poo-poo. Bad girl, Lady!"

Yeesh. Since then, Andrew has made great progress! He has become pretty independent and has learned to poop in the potty. Yay!(He still scolds Lady when he remembers that events of that fateful day.)

Needless to say, you shouldn't let my dog kiss your face.

Here's to potty training!

:)

Anne