Last summer, in the midst of trying to convince Sam pullups were not a permanent option, I let him go outside in the backyard. I even may have slightly encouraged it - as in I told him to go in the backyard and then took a really hilarious video of it (from behind) that Joe told me was not appropriate to put on the blog. I may even have been slightly proud of myself for being an open-minded enough female that I didn't freak out to see my boy urinating on the grass - isn't that what boys do?
My husband, who I thought would give me a slap on the back and be impressed with me, certainly was not. "You
taught him to go outside? Are you crazy?"
Hey - he was going somewhere other than the pullup - I was thrilled. I figured if we could get down sensing the need to go while playing in the backyard, it wouldn't take to long to transfer that skill to the toilet.
And while it didn't work quite that smoothly, he did eventually learn to use the toilet, and I did my best to keep the backyard pottying to a minimum. I thought he had forgotten about it, until we had this conversation one day last week. Mind you, we were sitting at the kitchen table at the time and it wasn't even really that nice outside.
"Mom, can I go potty outside?"
(Say what?)"What?"
"Can I go outside to go potty?"
(Are you serious, kid? It's, like, 45 degrees out there!)"Sam - there is a potty right down the hall."
"But I want to go outside."
(Why on earth would he want to go outside?)"Gus [the dog] goes potty outside, not you."
"But you let me last summer."
(Oh. That would be why. No wonder Joe wasn't so excited. How did he see where this was going to go and not me!?)"Oh."
"So can I go?"
(Ummm.....how am I going to get myself out of this one?)"No. Only 2-year-olds can go outside when they are learning to go potty. You're 3 now. You know how, so you can use the bathroom. Only if it's an emergency can you ever go outside."
(That was a pretty good save, right?)"Is this an emergency?"
"If you have time enough to ask, then no, it's not."
(I can see this is going to be a problem. Why in the world did I have to throw in the bit about an emergency!?)"But Sadie can go outside......she's learning. And she's 2."
(Ugh. He's got me on that one. Now what? I can just picture the two of them out there, sans pants, Sadie trying to get a nice arc like her brother. She already tries to stand up in front of the toilet at times and is quite distressed when I make her sit.)"Nope - only boys. When they are 2. And learning."
"Oh. Sadie's a girl. She can't. She doesn't have a potty sprayer."
(Right. Let's just end this conversation now, please.)[The whole "potty sprayer" terminology is entirely Sam's own.....I know I should teach him correct terminology for things, but I am just not ready to hear those words come out of his mouth yet. He called it a potty sprayer one day, so I went with it. I have some lovely stories about our conversations about the differences between boys and girls, but am a bit embarrassed to share what I actually said with the world (or at least the 25 or so people that read this). I was
so not ready for that at age 3. I thought I had at least another year.....]
And then a couple days ago, he looked up at me and said, "Mom - I think I have an emergency" and started to head for the back door with a hopeful look in his eyes. I quickly redirected him toward the bathroom and said, "Good thing there's a potty right here, then."
The kids were delighted to look out the window this morning and see a few inches of snow covering everything. Sam's exact words were "Winter came back! I'm so excited! We can go outside and shovel!"
Sadie thinks she is going back outside.....I think she's missing at least one essential piece of clothing for that.
Hmmmm....I wonder if they got better stuff in their eggs than me.
The kids enjoying the park
Yes, those are mixing bowls on their heads....
...and measuring spoons in their hands.
Again, tell me why we buy them toys?
Here's the instigator....
.....surveying his students.
Look, Sadie, you can put it on your foot, too!
I was a little skeptical of the bunny since it didn't seem too machine-washable, and I know how important the ability to throw much-loved objects in the washer is. I didn't say that to Joe right away - it was such a sweet thing to do. However, I went out and bought a couple little blankies (which she also sleeps with and have been names "Dot") in hopes that we could just save the bunny to look nice sitting in the corner of the crib.
(Wait....make that 3.)
