Kenny asked, for the first time today, to go to the “Poddy!” and actually did his business there.
Recently, since he is so dramatic when he poops, I’ve been saying, “Kenny, are you pooping? Do you need to go to the potty?” and I’ll take him in there. Not with the intention of early potty-training, but merely to begin encouraging an awareness of it. And whenever he is with me in the bathroom (which is often, since he follows me everywhere all day) I’ll tell him, “Mommy is going pee pee on the potty,” (or whatever else it might be…). So today, in the middle of playtime, he suddenly looked up and said, “Poddy.” I was a little wary, but he repeated it, and when I said, “Ok, let’s go find the potty!” he ran to the bathroom. I took of his pants and his diaper, set him onto the seat, knelt down to hold him up, and he smiled with relief… and peed all over my shirt.
I started cackling in surprise and the hilarity of the fact that I was being slowly soaked with my baby boy’s pee… something that hasn’t happened since the first week of diaper changes when he was brand new. But I didn’t want to send the wrong message, so I composed myself, gave him a big hug and then praised him for his accomplishment. And went to change my shirt.
Someone remind me next time that I should ask what exactly he needs to do before setting him on the family throne. But what’s a wet shirt compared with the fact that my little sixteen-month-old boy recognized the fact that he had to urinate, asked to go, and then waited until we were safely settled on the toilet before letting it go? I’m so proud of him.
In other news, we leave tomorrow for the move to Arizona. I can’t believe I’ve got a five-hour date with Kenny on an airplane. We’ve already flown for 13 hours together this week. The poor kid is going to start wanting to take a plane instead of a car when we go to the grocery store…