A major milestone is now being reached in the something something household. We are currently in the throes of potty training, after an unsuccessful attempt was made last summer (resulting in copious amounts of urine being removed from various items that shall remain unidentified, lest you think twice about where to sit during any upcoming visits to our home). We’re doing much better this time around, and aside from the increasingly infrequent accident, I’d say we’re doing quite well.

The technicalities of the potty training process are accompanied by much running and cheering – I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve been forced to leap up from the chair in our home office, chasing after the little blur that ran past the door while yelling, “Mommy! Pee pee!” We race to the bathroom, and he hops onto his little step stool. Pants are quickly pulled down, and for me as a female, this is where it gets tricky. Aim. Who knew? Certainly not me. I can honestly say that I’d never really thought about it. Until now. Until I watched as the Little One proudly managed to hit everything but the inside of the toilet bowl. The walls, the floor, the plumbing, the raised toilet cover. Who’d have guessed that such a little boy could make such a big mess? I quickly mastered the fine art of aiming, given that it seemed preferable to take an active role in the urination process than to have to clean up the resulting mess if I didn’t.

You’d think that once the stream had stopped, we’d be finished. Umm, not quite. Unbeknownst to me, there’s a part two. Little One has finally emptied his bladder, and as I start to reach for the toilet paper, he offers a brief instruction. “Shake it, Mommy. Shake it!” Shake what? What? OH! That? I have to shake that? Good grief. Once again, I find myself asking, “who knew?” I’d never have guessed that one. After all, our plumbing works differently, and unless I’m doing something wrong, there’s no shaking required at any stage.

And of course, lest you think that this process is done without speaking, think again. Think “positive reinforcement”. While the Little One is shooting his stream, I’m shooting off a verbal stream of encouragement. “Way to go, Little One!” “That’s right. You ARE making pee pee in the toilet!” “Ooops! Not on the wall, Sweetie.” “What? You don’t have pee pee, you have doody? Turn around! Turn around!” “No, you can’t see your doody while you’re actually sitting on the toilet, Sweetie. It doesn’t work that way.”

Finally, once all is said and done, once we’ve shaken, wiped, flushed and dressed, it’s time for congratulations. “You made pee pee/doody in the toilet! You rock the house, Little One!” “Let’s tell Aba what you did!” “Yay!”

Then there are those occasions when we are somewhat less successful, though thankfully, there seem to be fewer and fewer of these. In this case, the scene usually plays out as follows:

“Little One, do you have to make pee pee or doody?”

“No, Mommy.”

Five to ten minutes later. “Little One, do you have to make pee pee or doody?”

“No, Mommy.”

Five to ten minutes later, after hearing peculiar “straining” noises coming from the Little One. “Little One, did you make pee pee? Did you make doody?”

“No, Mommy. I’m farting.”

“Are you sure? You’re a little stinky, and your pants are wet. Did you make doody?”

“YES!”

Sigh… “Why didn’t you tell me, Sweetie? You’re supposed to do it in the potty, remember?”

Little One opts for the diversionary tactic. “MOMMY! LOOK! IT’S FIREMAN SAM ON TV! DID YOU SEE FIREMAN SAM? FIREMAN SAM! FIREMAN SAM!”

By now I am hip to his tactics, and while he continues to chatter on about Fireman Sam, I carefully pick him up and run to the bathroom. I extol the virtues of toilet use, while he again chooses to go with the diversionary tactic.

“Little One, you know you should be making pee pee and doody in the toilet, right? You have to use the toilet, Sweetie.”

More often than not, he responds with, “In da name uh-duh Hundred Maker (sic) Wood, I cature (sic) you!”

And really. How could I possibly argue with logic like that?

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