A potty story
Aden is obsessed with the toilet. Loves peeking inside, slamming the lid down, hearing the flush, playing with the little round bolt-covers on the bottom, and, when Mama is not quick enough, splashing in the water.
Motherhood has prompted the oddest combinations of words to come out of my mouth.
Captivated, Aden will watch Trey go #1 (no one is allowed anywhere near the bathroom when #2 is happening), wait for the flush to finish, and then act out his own version. Lift lid, stand there and sway pelvis back and forth for a few seconds, close lid, and flush.
The kid wants to use the potty.
So yesterday we pulled out the frog. Aden found it super-fun to help me clean him up, then to help carry him into the bathroom. Without instruction and with bottoms still on, Aden sat on the little potty and proclaimed, "KEE KEE!!!" (That's pee pee.)
"Aden, do you need to pee pee?" I asked.
"Mm-hmm."
So we nakedified his bottom half and he reclaimed his spot on the throne.
"OK, you can pee pee now."
"Um, [tsk], no." (Why he tsks after saying um, I have no clue. Except that I think I do it.)
"You don't want to pee pee?"
"No."
Oh well, trial one. A bit later we tried again, and this time Trey suggested something that has eliminated our need to force Trey to go to the bathroom, that being the presence of some reading material. I have known since early childhood that it is perfectly normal and even expected for a man to read in the bathroom. Having tried it myself, I really don't see the appeal. Just saying.
So Aden went through one of his fave books, but quickly grew bored and found a new use for the potty. That of jumping platform. Trial two was also a no-go.
Right before lunch Aden went to the bathroom door and started banging on it, shouting, "KEE KEE BOBBY!! KEE KEE BOBBY!!" We do not have a Bobby living in our house, so I took Bobby to mean potty. Opened the door, and Aden ran in and tugged on his shorts. After helping him go bottomless, he sat on the potty and said, "Kee kee bobby?"
"OK, go pee pee!" I answered.
"No."
Trey had hurried in to watch, and began cheering, "Come on, Aden. Come ON, Aden!!"
Me: "Aden, if you go pee pee in the frog potty, I bet he'll say ribbit-ribbit."
He smiled, raised up a little, bent over to watch, and...
Went. Yes, he did. Yes. He. Did.
And there was ribbiting and squealing and clapping and giggling, great merriment in the land.
Briefly interrupted because Aden chose to get off the frog potty, turn around, and start playing in his own, uh, stuff. Yes, we are that family. I quickly cut him off and showed him how to clean up, hopefully explaining effectively that playing in, uh, stuff isn't a fantastic idea.
Then we cheered some more. Aden did not repeat his accomplishment yesterday, in spite of much coaxing from me. I'm thinking since the first time came from him, perhaps every time is going to have to come from him. Aden is that type, you know. The type that will, somewhere down the road, use the phrase, "I potty trained myself!"
Motherhood has prompted the oddest combinations of words to come out of my mouth.
Captivated, Aden will watch Trey go #1 (no one is allowed anywhere near the bathroom when #2 is happening), wait for the flush to finish, and then act out his own version. Lift lid, stand there and sway pelvis back and forth for a few seconds, close lid, and flush.
The kid wants to use the potty.
So yesterday we pulled out the frog. Aden found it super-fun to help me clean him up, then to help carry him into the bathroom. Without instruction and with bottoms still on, Aden sat on the little potty and proclaimed, "KEE KEE!!!" (That's pee pee.)
"Aden, do you need to pee pee?" I asked.
"Mm-hmm."
So we nakedified his bottom half and he reclaimed his spot on the throne.
"OK, you can pee pee now."
"Um, [tsk], no." (Why he tsks after saying um, I have no clue. Except that I think I do it.)
"You don't want to pee pee?"
"No."
Oh well, trial one. A bit later we tried again, and this time Trey suggested something that has eliminated our need to force Trey to go to the bathroom, that being the presence of some reading material. I have known since early childhood that it is perfectly normal and even expected for a man to read in the bathroom. Having tried it myself, I really don't see the appeal. Just saying.
So Aden went through one of his fave books, but quickly grew bored and found a new use for the potty. That of jumping platform. Trial two was also a no-go.
Right before lunch Aden went to the bathroom door and started banging on it, shouting, "KEE KEE BOBBY!! KEE KEE BOBBY!!" We do not have a Bobby living in our house, so I took Bobby to mean potty. Opened the door, and Aden ran in and tugged on his shorts. After helping him go bottomless, he sat on the potty and said, "Kee kee bobby?"
"OK, go pee pee!" I answered.
"No."
Trey had hurried in to watch, and began cheering, "Come on, Aden. Come ON, Aden!!"
Me: "Aden, if you go pee pee in the frog potty, I bet he'll say ribbit-ribbit."
He smiled, raised up a little, bent over to watch, and...
Went. Yes, he did. Yes. He. Did.
And there was ribbiting and squealing and clapping and giggling, great merriment in the land.
Briefly interrupted because Aden chose to get off the frog potty, turn around, and start playing in his own, uh, stuff. Yes, we are that family. I quickly cut him off and showed him how to clean up, hopefully explaining effectively that playing in, uh, stuff isn't a fantastic idea.
Then we cheered some more. Aden did not repeat his accomplishment yesterday, in spite of much coaxing from me. I'm thinking since the first time came from him, perhaps every time is going to have to come from him. Aden is that type, you know. The type that will, somewhere down the road, use the phrase, "I potty trained myself!"
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