fat turdsday

Happy Mardi Gras! We began celebrating kind of early this morning when a call came from Dennis' room, an excited shout of "MOMMY COME LOOK WHAT I DID!!". What he did was poo-poo in his potty, in his room. I thought I had a few weeks before this would happen, honestly, so wasn't prepared. I stumbled sleepily in there and he was jumping up and down and pointing at the potty. I looked in and was shocked at what I saw there, so proud that for a brief moment I considered taking a picture of it but fortunately my brain woke up just then. I mean, who wants to see that? I didn't particularly want to deal with it before 7 a.m., but I hopped to it. And praised effusively. Now we have to learn about wiping, how to teach him to 'assume the position' and let me check his wiping job (because he wanted to do it all by himself, he said). I have no dignity left. None. I shouted like a banshee over a turd in a plastic frog potty this morning. And how was your day?

It was not a one time deal, either, as I feared it would be. And other potty issues have crept into the mix. We have to go to every bathroom, everywhere, and like a dog that holds pee to mark as many places as he can, Dennis must pee in as many toilets as he can on a single trip. And tonight, he wanted to empty his own potty, so he grabbed it up and started to take it to the bathroom when David shouted at him to stop, startled him, and he threw it down, face down (of course) and there was suddenly pee everywhere. I'm going to wear out that steam cleaner. Oh, yeah, about the not-being-a-one-time-deal thing--tonight he stood up suddenly and yelled "I got to use the potty quick I got to hurry" and ripped off his underwear, sending a tiny turd flying through the air as he rushed to get the next one in the potty (he succeeded). And I thought diapers were gross. We aren't quite done with gross. Actually, it's a whole new world of gross.

I'm so proud of him I can't stand it! From no potty to all potty, all the time in just a week. Whoa.