Our poop story continues.
First, a swing and a miss:
This morning, I was preparing to go into the big city to do some real work (gulp!). So I was a little distracted. Not totally on my mom game. You understand.
I was making some toast and cheese for a little brekkie for me and the boy. He was sitting on the floor enjoying the way that the french door can swing open and shut, open and shut.
Amidst the giggles, I hear him say “Poop.”
Now I can’t always jump at the word Poop. Sometimes he’s just saying the word. It’s a fun word.
About a minute later, he’s hunched over a bit, and making The Face.
Aaaaaack!
I spring into action, grab the boy, run into the bathroom. Poop in the potty? I ask him as I stand him up on the changing pad on our bathroom vanity, hands spread against the mirror like he’s going to be frisked, whip down his sweatpants and diaper.
Too late. Kind of.
At least he wasn’t sitting down and therefore IN it. A “catch” with the diaper is re-imagined as mitt?
Oh well.
So then the nanny takes over for the day and I’m off to do some editing, in a big office, with other big people, who can potty themselves.
When I get home, first I see the evidence in the toilet (who has time to flush?) and then I get the report.
As far as I understand it, the two were hanging out in the kitchen when Jonah cast a glance towards the bathroom.
“Poop,” he said.
And then he crawled to the bathroom. So she picked him up, stripped him down, and held him over the toilet.
First he peed. And they laughed and talked for a while.
Are you done? She asked.
No, he shook his head vigorously.
About a minute later… swing, out of the park!
I couldn’t be more proud.
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