Friday, March 15, 2013


Well, after months of slow and not steady progress towards potty training, we have made the big leap to undies. Training undies, but undies none-the-less. And he couldn't be more pleased with them.
I have to admit, I'm a bit bewildered by potty training. What is it exactly? When does it officially begin? And end? In the spirit of letting him lead the way, over the past 6 months we have taken the approach of asking if he needs to go and if he says yes, well than great! If he says no, that's great too. When people asked whether we were potty training I would reply, "Ummmm, I think so?" But as my due date rapidly approaches and we have times where days go by with no potty use, we realized we needed to get the ball rolling. So I bought some training underwear and 4 days again mission Undies! began.
You know how there is often no perfect time to have kids? Well, the same thing applies to potty training. Last week was no good because we were headed on a road trip for a few days. This week was no better because Joe is heading out of town for three days and hauling a toddler up and down the stairs every 30 minutes for a potty break is no easy feat with a 32 week pregnant belly. But as soon as Taran spied those packages of sport-themed underwear he was determined and we figured we better jump on that train before it left the station.
I feel like this is the point where I am supposed to get misty eyed about how my big boy is growing up. Maybe I'm just too busy cleaning poop out of underwear and pee of my chairs to process the awe-inspiring hugeness of it all. Or maybe it's just not my style to get sentimental in that way. Hey, it was Joe who cried when Taran was born, not me. I am proud though and I just love every minute of watching him grow and explore and try new things whether the feat be big or small. And to take a cue from the sport-themed undies... "Go! Go, little man".

1 comment:

  1. Punctuation with pictures... a facile means of emphasizing your exposition... and look at those legs! Soon they'll be sprinting to get to the pissing. Ergo, it's the bloated bladder or rumbling rectum that propagates the next generation of Olympic track stars.