Memo To Younger Boy – Boys Have a Penis & Girls Don’t

Memo: To Younger Boy
Dept: Preschooler Unit
From: Crys
Subject: Boys Have a Penis & Girls Don’t

Younger Boy. First off I wanted to thank you for your help and assistance when your cousins Max and Tracie were over last Saturday. Specifically in the fact that you not only played nicely with Tracie who is a year younger than you, currently potty training, and learning to use her words instead of baby talk.

I thought it was very nice of you to play with her, to share your trains and your motorized hamsters with her. While I know that she often snatched (Footnote 1) the toys from you while you were trying to play with them, I am most impressed with your choice to use your words instead of screaming and crying and snatching it back. I am very proud of this progress in your behavior. It was also very helpful considering there were five children under my care that day (especially since your father was at work for most of it.)

And now I would like to get to the main point of this memo. I’ve come to realize that you might have some confusion about Tracie and going to the bathroom. On a quick side note I would like to thank you for your assistance in helping make sure that Tracie went potty on the toilet and not in her pants. I was very thankful to hear you say “I’m going to go potty too” or “Do you need to go potty? I need to go potty.” I think that your actions as a role model helped to prevent a couple of possible accidents that day.

On one occurrence I went to go peer around the corner just in case Tracie needed help. I noticed that you showed Tracie how to urinate while standing up. I’m pretty sure from the look of awe on her face that she was not only impressed with your ability to pee standing up, but also fascinated that you are able to pee standing up.

I think she actually considered giving it a try until I decided to step in and help her to sit down on the toilet. Now, I’m aware that you had a look of confusion on your face. You seemed to be most confuddled by this action. Let me explain.

Boys have a penis and girls don’t. Boys pee standing up and girls have to sit down to pee. However, yes, boys and girls both do have to sit down to poop.

I hope that this explanation is adequate enough for right now. I think that we can go into more detail when you get older. But I felt that it was necessary to at least give you the knowledge of these basic facts since you seemed confused by your experience in trying to help give Tracie potty training lessons.

Please direct any further questions to your father. Thank you.

Kind Regards,
Crys, House Co-Director

Footnotes
1: “Snatched” was the word of the day that day. I heard it from each of the five children that day. I’m also pretty convinced that Nasty Cat used the word “snatched” when all five children decided that his toys were the coolest toys to play with.

Adventures on the Road to Becoming an Independent Wiper

As you may recall, I’m currently working with Younger Boy to be an independent wiper. And by “independent wiper” I mean that one of these days we will not have to go through the formalities of how he currently wipes his butt after pooping. And I thought I would take a moment to share some of our adventures on the journey to Younger Boy becoming an independent wiper.

Adventure One – It looks like…
YB: I have to go poop.
Me: OK.
*a couple minutes later*
YB: I need a wipe!
Me: Then wipe! You know how.
YB: Like a square?
Me: Yup! Like a square.*Sneaks over about 30 seconds later to check on the progress of the wipe*
YB: *Standing next to the toilet, pants around his ankles, staring into the poopie toilet paper. Notices me peering around the corner and smiles a huge grin.* I have poop! It looks like chocolate!
Me: *Horror of the comparison of chocolate and horrid actions of what this could result in fills my mind* But it’s poop. Drop it in the toilet.
YB: It looks like chocolate! *Looks at poopie toilet paper again with curiosity*
Me: But it’s poop. So please drop it in the toilet.
YB: *Drops soiled poopie paper in the toilet and looks at me again.* But it looks like chocolate.

He did the same thing the next day. Except this time I didn’t wander over there. I trust that he didn’t do any taste testing; otherwise I’m sure I would have heard a disgusted outcry. But he did, again, make the comparison. Today (three days later) the shiny awesome of “It looks like chocolate” must have worn off. I haven’t heard it yet today.

Adventure Two – What about me?!?
YB: I have to go poop.
Me: OK.
*a couple minutes later*
YB: I need a wipe!
Me: Then wipe! You know how.
YB: Like a square?
Me: Yup! Like a square.
*About 30 seconds later*
YB:*shrill disbelief in his tone* Hey! What about me?!?
Me: *What the? OH DAMMIT!*

The toilet paper roll was just about out! I made it to the bathroom in a couple of swift strides. There stood Younger Boy, his pants around his ankles looking at the empty roll of toilet paper with a confused and sad and frustrated look on his face. He looked up at me with those sad, confused dark brown eyes.

YB: What about me?

It was actually kind of funny and cute, but I held onto my concerned look. I grabbed a new roll and switched it out.

Me: Don’t worry, I got you.
YB: Thank you!

So lessons learned:
1. Maybe don’t react with horror when the discovery that poops looks like chocolate. I think he enjoyed terrorizing me. However, I’m still glad that I made sure to make the distinction that poop is definitely not chocolate.
2. If it’s just you and the toddler in the house and the toilet paper roll is almost empty, just change it. It will save a lot of trouble.

The Basketball Star

I meant to share this yesterday, but you know how life goes. Your work computer breaks then you have to wait for them to overnight you a new one, and then you have to assemble it and redo all your shortcuts and bookmarked links, and before you know it the work day is over and you have to cook dinner. Geez … anyway ... sharing time!

Do the males in your life enjoy shooting garbage into the garbage can? You know basketball style … because mine do. And usually if it’s some wadded up paper I don’t have an issue with it – until Tuesday.

You’re going to love this. I promise.

Younger Boy did a walk by Tuesday informing me “I have to go poop.” He’s still telling me that he needs a wipe, in which I respond with “OK, You know how to wipe yourself.” We’ve developed a sort of step-by-step procedure.

Step One: Wipe
Step Two: Put dirty toilet paper in toilet.
Step Three: Wipe again just to make sure
Step Four: Put dirty toilet paper in toilet
Step Five: Pull up underwear and pants
Step Six: Flush toilet
Step Seven: Wash hands with soap.

I usually try to make it over there during the second wipe just to make sure that he’s getting it all. (And he’s been really good about getting it all too!) However when I wandered over there I got a great surprise. I peered around the corner just in time to watch Younger Boy shooting Poop Wads into the toilet.

I kid you not – the kid wiped, stood up, backed up across the bathroom floor, and threw a poop wad free throw over toward the toilet bowl. Except he missed! I kind of cringed as I imagined all the possible poop smears that I haven’t cleaned up yet. I also wondered where my Clorox Anywhere had gone to so that I could effectively clean up any poop smears or germs that ricocheted off the rim of the toilet bowl.

I couldn’t help it, but I had to end that practice of shooting poop wads into the toilet. Step Two and Step Four have now been revised to “Drop dirty toilet paper in toilet,” and luckily (as far as I know) Younger Boy has been complying.

I’ve considered drawing out these steps and taping them up on the bathroom wall to help him remember. (He’s still a little fuzzy on the washing hands with soap part.) I’ve yet to tell my fiancé about this incident. I keep forgetting, but hey, now he can read about it!

I’m wondering what other fun things Younger Boy has up his sleeve in terms of mystery bathroom activities.

Task Accomplished - The Wipe

Can you hear that? That beautiful wonderful sound? It’s the glorifying sound of heavenly angels singing and rejoicing because Younger Boy has learned to wipe!

Oh yes, I’ve witnessed this miracle all this week.

YB: I need a wipe!
Me: *walks over to open bathroom door* OK, then get some toilet paper.
YB: *Hops off toilet. Grabs about three squares of toilet paper, and lays strip of squares on sink top so that he can fold them into one thick square. Wipes*
Me: Good job! Do it one more time just to make sure you got it all.
YB: *Repeats above process* Crys, I wiped my butt!
Me: Yes you did! Good job!
YB: I can go to preschool!

So yes, Younger Boy has learned to wipe and is indeed about ready to go to preschool. Although he’ll have to wait for the fall because I’d like to get him a little more independent on wiping on his own first. And there’s this other thing I’ve mentioned to my dear fiancé that he should help with.

The thought occurred to me the other day when I was brushing my teeth. Younger Boy came in to use the bathroom and I noticed that as he’s finishing up he kind of finishes that stream of urine into his underwear. Not exactly full stream here though, more like the after drops of that stream.

Now don’t ask me how I came across this bit of knowledge … it’s possibly it came up during a conversation about how convenient it would be to have a detachable penis I could keep in my purse so that I could whip it out in an outdoor emergency situation. But the thought that came to my mind was, “What about the shake? Isn’t he supposed to shake it?”

Tangent: Yes, I have on multiple occasions participated in the discussion of peeing outside in the woods. Mainly my point is that it’s irritating that guys can go to a tree and whip it out, go, shake it and tuck it back in and you’re done.. However, we females need to find a location, find some balance, pop a squat, go, either shake like crazy or hope like hell you have some tissue or toilet paper tucked somewhere, and then you’re done. Not so much fun when you’re camping and its 4am and you really have to go, or when you’re in the middle of an orchard at a party and you’re bladder is full from too much beer.

Back on topic, I brought this up to my fiancé in the statement of “Isn’t he supposed to shake it when he’s done.” My fiancé looked at me like I was speaking crazy gibberish but then after he observed what Younger Boy was doing I guess my crazy gibberish made sense.

It was kind of funny. FH told Younger Boy to shake it and, because he wasn’t exactly shown what to shake, and because he’s three he interpreted it as he ought to shake his whole bottom half. Now, whether this was productive or not I don’t know because I had to leave the company of FH and Younger Boy to go giggle in the kitchen. So FH’s next assignment (and Older Boy’s) is to show Younger Boy how to shake it when you’re done.

So we have accomplished much:
Recognizing that he has to pee/poop.
Acting upon that realization.
Going correctly on the toilet (standing to pee or sitting to poop)
Wiping up after pooping

Now what we have to work on:
Wiping independently
Remembering to wash hands with soap afterward
The Shake

And I think that one of the older boys (My assumption is Middle Boy) needs to learn to master the shake as well. Because I know that all that wiping I end up having to do around the toilet isn’t all from Nasty Cat and Younger Boy.

I Need A Toddler 101 Crash Course

Being an instant mom and all, I’m in need of a little help. OK, I’m in need of more than just a little help but I’ve made some new discoveries lately. Or perhaps it’s more that Younger Boy has made some new discoveries and I’m perplexed about how to go about them.

Butt Dunking
If I’m home alone with Younger Boy I’m usually the one who responds to the call of “I need a wipe!” If I’m home with my future hubby I totally share the love and let him know that it’s his turn to respond to the call of action. (He’s so wonderful and always cooperates!) Anyway, this very morning I heard the call and I went in there.

Younger Boy popped up off the seat and assumed the “wipe” position. That’s when I noticed that his butt was dripping with water. And then the light bulb went on in my head. All those times I wondered why there was water on the toilet seat (and it really was water not straight I missed the bowl urine) and all those times I’d found random water sloshes on the floor. I’d even seen Younger Boy balancing himself over the seat lid and dipping low enough. Here I was thinking he was just trying to get his aim and balance right. No! That boy has been dunking his butt into the water when he poops! (The dirty sloshes of water also make sense now because I sure as hell could not figure out how poopy water was getting onto the top of the toilet seat.)

So, do you think repeatedly telling him that dipping your butt into the toilet water just isn’t a good idea because it’s dirty and has germs and could get you (or me) sick? I’d totally get the kid a bidet if we had room, could afford it, and I thought that the rest of the family would be appreciative of it, but that’s a little out of the way budget and room wise right now.

The Killer Bugs
Younger Boy has developed a recent and new fear of bugs. I assume it has something to do with the bee that he angered one day at the park. My future hubby and the boys were playing some baseball when Younger Boy came tearing ass in the middle of it and a big, black bee was tailing him. He, luckily, avoided any stinging. However, the poor love has sure as heck has been scared of bugs since.

I’ve tried convincing him that not all bugs are totally bad and that he’s bigger then them. However, that’s not the easiest task when bees, yellow jackets and wasps are small too.

So if you have any ideas on how to soothe his fear that would be great too.

Thomas is Boring
Younger Boy needs new toys. By “new toys” I mean really great stimulating toys that aren’t Thomas the Tank Engine and Friends. That’s really all he has. He loves his Play-doh, and Finger Painting and the larger (pre-school sized) legos. He also loves coloring and tearing the paper off of crayons. However, there are a lot of hours in the day and once he’s done all those things all he has left is Thomas. And he has been getting really bored of Thomas in which he declares "Crys, I don't want to play with Thomas." (Which I’ve been trying to tell his aunts and grandmothers since they’re the ones who keep buying him Thomas stuff, but of course he’s always willing to play with them if you have them for him so it doesn’t help his cause when he’s sitting at home bored out of his mind because he’s tired of playing with Thomas.)

So, I’ve never been a little boy. All the experience I have with little boys has been with infant boys or boys 10 years old or older. I have no idea what kind/types of toys would be good for an active, curious and creative 3-year-old. I’m wondering if possibly those really big, big puzzles or in general some more puzzles would be good for him. And by regular “puzzles” I mean the types that have just a fire truck or a square and you match the object to its respective hole.

We got him a lift-the-flap interactive Spot the dog book also, but when I'm working during the day I need something that he can play with. Any independent toy ideas are welcome because I’m just apparently out of the loop of what it out there now-a-days.

I need a care sheet like the ones I’ve prepared for bird and small animal owners that lists the different toy groups and the different types of play. They say parrots are like toddlers. Maybe I can use the bird one…that’s an starting point! Right?

Teaching The Art Of Standing Up

I’d noticed some small mystery puddles here and there earlier this last week. But by Friday they escalated into huge ponds … and it was when Middle Boy squealed “He’s peeing on the stool” that I figured it out. If I hadn’t witnessed it with my own two eyes I would not have believed it. There he was, Younger Boy, sitting propped up with his hands on the toilet seat. That little booger had somehow maneuvered enough and aimed so that a stream of urine was sailing out underneath the toilet seat lid and above the top of the toilet bowl rim. Oh, and it sailed straight onto his stool and created a boy-made lake at the base of the toilet.

He thought it was the coolest thing ever. And if it were not for the look of sheer joy and amusement on his face, I probably would have written it off as a freak accident. But after it occurred two more times, and my fiancé and I had Clorox and wiped the floor and toilet bowl I was pretty done with it (Especially after I caught Nasty Cat sniffing around the toilet bowl).

Can I just say that I thought of all of you wonderful ladies as I sat there scrubbing the floor and the toilet bowl? As mentioned in another post, I remember being told, “Get ready to scrub.” But no one told me that the boy could manage to produce a geyser of urine in between the toilet seat and bowl, and only get a couple of drops into the bowl. (I think I was starting to write this very entry as I scrubbed and disinfected.)

Anyway, I declared to my fiancé that it was time to teach Younger Boy to stand up while urinating. I busted out the Cheerios and started the lesson on Friday. My fiancé was home from work so I had him show Younger Boy the ropes. Older Boy even helped out by doing a demonstration. That was great:

Me: Do either of you have to urinate? *looking at Older and Middle Boy*
MB: Nope
OB: *Has a look of curiosity on his face*
Me: I need one of you to show Younger Boy how to go to the bathroom standing up. It might help him to have one of you show him since he likes to copy everything you do.
OB: I’ll do it.
Me: Thank you. That’s a big help.

And oh, it was a big help. It, however, was going to take a little bit more demonstration and help from those in the house that have penises, because really, it’s easier to show a three-year-old boy than to try and explain the dynamics of it. I’ve amused my fiancé and his friends quite a bit this weekend. Let me share:

Example One of me trying to help Younger Boy out
He was holding it wrong. In fact, if he actually had gone he would have efficiently peed into his cupped hand. I tried to show him and maneuver his hand and fingers so that he wouldn’t be directly peeing into his hand. That’s when he decided that my help would be good enough and he dropped his hand away, leaving me holding it for him. And it was really kind of awkward.

Me: No, you hold it. That’s not my job.

Example Two of me trying to help
Again, he was holding it wrong. In fact, the angle and direction that he was pulling it reminded me of Stretch Armstrong. I didn’t know if he actually could urinate with it pulled and twisted as it was, but if he did he would have shot it right into the cats’ litter box. That just wasn’t on my list of things I wanted to completely clean out that night. And I tried so hard to explain to him:

Me: No, don’t pull on it. Just hold it with your fingers.
YB: *Pinches it in his fingers and pulls even harder*
Me: No, don’t try to rip it off
*Frustrated I walk out into the living room where my fiancé and his friends were hanging out*
Me: YOU have a penis! You go show him how to hold it!
FH’s Friend: You are talking to FH, right?
Me: Well, yeah.
FH’s Friend: OK, just making sure, because the rest of us have those too.

So Younger Boy is successfully standing up now without being reminded. We’ve even scrapped the Cheerios in the bowl after the first day. It takes him a bit longer to get over his stage fright and I’ve already asked his older brothers and my fiancé to PLEASE show him how it’s done so that he can see that it’s quite OK to go standing up. And I DO expect to be scrubbing for a bit longer, but I’m quite OK with it if that means that I’ll not have to clean up the Younger Boy-made lakes every day.

He Makes Me So Proud!

While potty-training Younger Boy we made the mistake of allowing him to plop down on the floor to 1) Before going to take off his pants/underwear and 2) After going to put on his pants/underwear. I say mistake because 1)It was a pain when going out because he insisted on doing this and I always had to insist that he not. Come on, it's a public bathroom floor! Ewww. 2)It was a pain having to wait on him to take his clothes all off and put them all back on again when trying to go pick up the older boys from school, and 3)It got kind of gross (poop stamps and cat litter spewed across the floor is all I have to say).

So lately I have been trying to tail him there to remind him (teach him) how to pull his pants down around his ankles instead.

Me: Stand on the stool. Turn Around. And pull down your pants.
YB: And my underwear, and sit down!

This is the conversation we have daily … about five to nine times daily. Sometimes I omit the “Turn Around” because as he progresses he does it automatically.

Last night he goes running across the living room telling us he has to go potty. As he goes running by I call out:

Me: Stand on the stool!
YB: And pull my pants down. And my underwear.

Little did he know I was tailing him. Just to make sure. It has occurred before that he gets there and plops his butt down on the floor getting ready to pull everything off and I intercept the play and get him up on the stool.

I peeked around the corner and saw him place the stool in front of the toilet, get up on it and pull his pants down. Can I tell you how proud I was, I admit I teared up a bit. I turned around and went back to my fiancé and our intense game of Uno.

Me: *sarcastic fake sniff* He makes me so proud.
FH: Did he use the stool without you having to tell him to.
Me: Yes!

So proud. My bathroom floor is on its way to being safe and free of poop stamps … maybe.

That Is Your Penis

OK, I have been bursting to share this story with you ladies. And I slightly teased it in the last entry with the usage of the word “urinating” so I had to come back and tell it to you. It’s a little overdue, as it occurred on Christmas Day, but better late then never.

Background Info
On my mom’s side of the family there are seven granddaughters. We are essentially the seven princesses. I am the first granddaughter and bear the title of Princess #1. I kid you not, my Grandma still writes that on all of my birthday cards. My grandparents pretty much raised me while I was young and growing up, and as a young child I, Princess #1, could do no wrong.

Well, as an adult Princess now I generally can still do no wrong, but I can be misinformed which could cause slight mistakes that my Grandma either shakes her head at or lectures me on the proper way to do things. (The best is when she has my mother call me to inform me of my misinformed actions.)

Fast Forward – Two Weeks Before Christmas
Now I’ve heard little boys call their parts so many different things. There’s my weenie, my pee-pee, my privates, my stick, and my personal favorite my pee stick. Well, as an instant mom I wasn’t sure exactly what the standard name had been set as for this. As a gutter-minded dirty foul-mouthed chick that generally hangs out with all guys, you can imagine the words I’ve used for it.

So there I was, monitoring Younger Boy as he sat on the toilet. I had my sister Wendy on the phone as we discussed plans for the Christmas holiday when I noticed Younger Boy pulling and tugging at his package. In fact, I almost called it that to his face.

Me: Stop pulling on your pac…your coc…..your, your … stop playing with your junk.
YB: OK. *immediately lets go*
Wendy: *on the phone* You realize he’s going to be the only kid at preschool who calls it his junk.
Me: Yeah, I know. Not the best choice of words. But it was the best I could come up with.

Fast Forward – Christmas Day
So there we all were … at my parent’s house …Wendy, my parents, my Grandma, my cousins, and my family. We were sipping red wine and munching on nuts. My sister, my Grandma, my mom and I were standing in the kitchen talking when she did it. Wendy, my dear younger sister, took the opportunity to rat me out to my Grandma.

Oh yeah, she told her exactly what I told Younger Boy, and the follow up comment she made to me. My Grandma shook her head in that way that only she can. The head shake that I have obviously chosen an action based on misinformation. I took a swig of pinot noir because I knew it was coming.

It was a great lecture. She bestowed her Grandmother wisdom on the topic of how I ought to be using the correct terms for these things. “Penis,” “Testicles” and “Urinating” were the correct words that I ought to be using because any other words I allowed him to use would not only disservice him, but could lead to other kids teasing him down the line when he referred to his penis as his pee-pee.

Wendy did not quite plan on this lecture, but it satisfied me that she was included in it. Whenever she has kids, there will be no excuse for any male offspring to mislabel their penis in the early years. Ha! Karma is a bitch.

Fast Forward – Three Days After Christmas
With this new information in mind, I was on the ready for the moment that I needed to spring into action. And oh yes, my moment of glory came just three days after Christmas. I was in the boys room pulling out clean pajamas for Younger Boy. Older Boy and Middle Boy were already in their beds laughing and talking with me. Younger Boy comes bouncing in, butt naked pulling on his penis.

YB: It’s my pee-pee!
Me: No, that is your penis. Pee-nis.
OB: Why do you call it that? *Genuine confusion sets in on his face*
Me: Because that’s what it’s actually called. *flustered at first, but the answer rolls out like I knew it all along*
OB: Oh *satisfied with my answer the confusion clears*
YB: My Pee-nis *laughing as he tugs on it some more*

Oh boy … I can see it now. We’ll be standing in line somewhere, surrounded by a lot of people … possibly little old ladies and other loud-mouthed children just looking for a new word to mimic. Younger Boy will find just the right moment to announce to all those within hearing distance that he has a penis. I mean, come on, isn’t that one of the ultimate rights of passage as a parent? When your kid embarrasses you by giving an anatomy lesson?

I totally look forward to it.

The Latest Adventure In Potty Training

Some Of My Favorite Things
Let me start off by saying that ever since I’ve become a stepmother I have made quite a few (a lot) of realizations (changes) about the most randomness things – particularly products and their effectiveness.

Here are some of my new found favorite things, and why.

OxyClean: I enjoyed your oxygen cleaning power before for doing laundry, but I had no idea how wonderful you really were for removing potential stain makers from my carpet. I mean, just look at my strong and brave beige carpet. I bet you wouldn’t be able to tell that it had previous encounters with cherry and grape popsicle juice, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos vomit, or chocolate frosting.

Distilled White Vinegar: Your are a fairly recent discovery and latest love of my life. You kill and removes mold oh so well! For details read this.

Scotch Brite Scrubbing Pads: How I love that I can cut you up into tiny, little pieces to scrub away the awfulness of mold, chewed bubble gum, sticky and wet lollypops and vomit. And I don’t feel guilty about throwing you away after one use. Gone are the days of watching my hard earn cash go into the trash when I had to use a dish washing sponge.

Clorox Anywhere Hard Surfaces: You are by far one of my favorites that I hold dear to my heart! In fact, I don’t know what I would do if you were not in my life (the thought is blasphemy against life itself!!!) You clean and sanitize Anything and Everything (well except Sharpe marker, but I can forgive you for that) off of my floors, counter tops, tables and chairs. Especially all the fresh and the somewhat dried foods and sauces that Younger Boy insists on decorating furniture with!

Clorox Disinfecting Wipes: You! Wonderful, Fabulous You! A tie with your hardworking sibling Clorox Anywhere Hard Surface as one that I hold dear to my heart! You have yet to let me down! (Except probably now that I have used the last of you and longingly stare at your empty carton wishing I could will more of you to form inside.)

And Clorox Disinfecting Wipes brings me to my latest instant mom experience and inspiration for this post my dear friends.

Past Occurrences
As you are all aware, I’ve been diligently potty-training Younger Boy. In fact, we’re working on wiping and leaving our pants on around our ankles instead of stripping down butt naked when needing to use the bathroom. In fact, I’m fairly convinced that Younger Boy is working rather intensely toward trying to make me lose my mind. (What he doesn’t know is that I already lost it a long ago and only pretend that I have one.) I say this because he really likes to wait for us to be alone to pull out whatever challenge he’s going to bust out for the day.

Past Occurrences include this, this, this, and oh yes, this.

Others include the infamous Cantaloupe Stand-Off. (If I’ve already told this story I apologize. You may skip down to The Latest Occurrence.) You see, Younger Boy very much enjoys stuffing his cheeks with food. I think he’s part squirrel or something and he’s saving up to snack on this hidden food later. Anyway, one day he shoved four small pieces of cantaloupe in his cheeks. He chewed that stuff for a good 15 to 20 minutes. Within those 15 to 20 minutes he proceeded to tell me reasons why he couldn’t possibly swallow it.

1.It was too hot.
2.It was too cold.
3.It hurt him.
4.It was too slimy/mushy
5.It’s just not fair *followed by a head down on the table and an exasperated sigh of frustration.*

I did, however, win that stand off. I offered a fresh (non-floating particle filled) glass of water in exchange for him swallowing it. He swallowed it.

The Latest Occurrence
I again, was listening in to my weekly meeting when I hear Younger Boy go running by me with his hands holding his butt wailing “I haaave to go pooooo pooooo.”

I responded with my usual, “Then go pooooo pooooo” and resumed listening in to my meeting. About 7 minutes had passed when I thought, “Hrm, I should go check on him. He hasn’t asked for help to wipe yet.” I round the corner to the bathroom, which had a closed door by the way. My heart began to race. I open it up, peer around and was lucky that the phone was on mute.

There he was, stamping my bathroom floor with beautiful, brown poop stamps. He’d already smeared it across the bathroom seat getting on and off (which leads me to believe it had started to poke out during his insistence of removing his pants and socks before climbing up on the toilet. And for some reason had plopped his poop covered little butt down on the floor, twice. Do I even dare mention that about 1/4 of the toilet paper roll was in the toilet?

I once again, my talented self, attended my meeting while I helped him clean up. At this point he’s actually a pro at taking showers and using soapy hands to wipe himself clean in the shower. All the while, with the assistance of my two favorite cleaning items from Clorox, I scrubbed and wiped and sanitized my bathroom.

Do I even dare mention that while I was assisting Younger Boy to get his hands all nice and soapy I turned around to find the cat examining one of the poop stamps? Oh yes, the cat was sniffing and was just about to examine it with his paw with I performed *now imagine this in slow motion* a swooping down motion with my hand to bat him away while saying “Nooo, Dooon’t touch thaaat you naaasty caaat.” All of this while holding the phone to my ear.

So there you go – my latest experience with Potty-Training Younger Boy, and a list of my favorite things that in my opinion anyone with kids (or pets) should most likely have in their home. I even took a photo for you so that you'll know exactly what products to look for.

Please Pass The Clorox

It’s started. Younger Boy has been inspired to potty like a big boy. I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth when I noticed a large puddle on top of Younger Boy’s stool. There also happened to be some liquid spattering the edge of the toilet seat and running down the front contributing to another puddle forming at the bottom of the toilet.

“Start Scrubbing” came to mind. And all the comments from the post swirled around my head. I could literally see them typed out in front of me. And then I giggled. And then I sighed. And then I grabbed the bottle of Clorox Anywhere and some paper towels and cleaned it up.

I felt dread and happiness at the same time. Happiness that the boy felt compelled to take the steps himself to go potty like Daddy and his older brothers. Dread as I realized I am on my last roll of paper towels and should, most likely today, get my butt over to the store to buy some more and possibly a new bottle of Clorox Anywhere also. I’ve considered putting a puppy pad at the front of the toilet too. We have them because my cat likes to stand up while peeing and it’s helped a great deal in cleaning up around the litter box. Why not Younger Boy’s potty training also?

After cleaning the lovely puddle up I again expressed to my fiancé:

Me: I think it would be great if you, and possibly the older boys, would take Younger Boy into the bathroom with you when you have to pee. I have no problem working on aim with him, but I don’t have the part to show him how to properly lift up both lids and to aim. I just don’t know how it’s done.

I often talk with my hands, so you’ll have to re-read that and imagine the hand movements of lifting up both lids and handling the parts to properly aim inside the bowl. And I stick strongly by my visual learning bit. If he sees them doing it I'm convinced he'll want to do it like them too.

I've now entertained the idea of keeping the bottle in the bathroom, along with a roll of paper towels, and possibly a bowl of circular shaped cereal for aim practice. (It would have to be Apple Jacks because we're now out of Fruit Loops. Hrm ... green and orange speckled with green loops. "Aim at the Green Loop" is much easier to say. Maybe I can just pick those ones out.)

I just had to share as I know most of you have been there and will probably enjoy my experience, and to let you know that without your comments I probably would not find this as amusing as I do. Because I actually did laugh when I saw that puddle before I sighed.

Potty Training Boys - Fine Tuning the Details

From my last post “Instant Mom Adventures In Potty Training” I celebrated in the achievement of getting Younger Boy out of diapers and peeing on the toilet. We’ll it’s been a little over a month since then and there has been much progress. *Does A Celebration Jig of Delight*

Achieved:

• Becoming aware that “I have to go poop”
• Acting upon that awareness
• Pooping in the toilet (at our house/when he’s with us at least. I can’t for sure say the same for Jane. But if she’d rather not be proactive in potty training then that’s her choice.)
  

Next on the list:

• Learning to wipe
• Peeing like a big boy
  

Now you see these last two have brought some new elements to the plate that I’m just not familiar with.

Let’s start with peeing like a big boy. That is much further down my list at the moment. I’ve been trying to recruit the assistance of my fiancé, Older Boy and Middle Boy to help me out here. I don’t know about you, but I’m a visual learner. There is a photo of me as a three-year-old imitating my dad by sitting on the training toilet in foot pajamas, holding open a newspaper and smiling for the camera. Was I ever so proud that I could sit on the toilet like my Daddy. *I do want to note that the newspaper is upside down* So I’m hoping that if one of them brings Younger Boy in there with them to show them how they do it, maybe he’ll be inspired to want to do it too.

I did attempt it yesterday:
Me: Do you want to pee like Daddy, Middle Boy and Older Boy?
YB: Yes!
Me: OK, first you have to stand on your stool facing the toilet.
YB: OK
Me: Then pull your pants down, No YB, you don’t have to take your pants off. Leave them near your feet.
YB: OK *assumes the position*
Me: *Throws a purple fruit loop in the toilet* OK, do you see that? Try to pee on it.
YB: *Grabs my hands (which are trying to help him balance on the stool) for dear life … hesitates … whimpers … shrinks back* [Obvious stage fright and there will be no performance today folks.]
Me: You know what YB, that’s OK. You can try again later.

We’ll, E for Effort, right? Perhaps not the best directional method, I do know for a fact that pregnancy tests state a bit more detail then “Pee on the stick.” But I just didn’t think that the phrases “Aim for the purple loop” or “Try to shoot your stream of pee at the purple loop” were going to help my cause. It just is this one little issue I have with potty training boys.

You see … it’s just that I don’t have the package that they have. As a woman I actually lack the male anatomy parts, thus I am just not familiar with how that all works in all matters of toilet use. In college, if I was out at a party in an orchard and I had to go, I didn’t have the convenience of a hose-like device attached to my body to help funnel it in a convenient location. I had to pop a squat with the rest of the ladies.

I tried to do some research on this dilemma and by “do some research” I mean that I had to ask the fiancé. (We’ll refer to him as FH – Future Husband in conversation.)
Me: So, I have this problem.
FH: What’s that?
Me: I need to know how boys wipe.
FH: Huh?
Me: Well, since YB is with me often through out the day, and I obviously, at least the last time I checked, don’t have that package, I don’t quite know how it works.
FH: *Gives me the “Are you F’ing Kidding me” look and gives a sort of chuckle*
Me: No, I’m serious. How do you wipe? Do you stand up? Do you sit down? Do you have to maneuver around that thing? Do you just move it to the side? Do you just reach around? I don’t have one so I don’t know.

This research really didn’t help me. Although I did gain some information that I suppose will be somewhat helpful in my efforts to teach something I’ve never done before. My younger sister found my research quite hilarious but agreed that she didn’t have a damn clue how it’s done either.

I’ve concluded that the older males in the house are also going to have to just bring Younger Boy in there with them too so that he’ll have another example of how boys do it.

So for now, I will try my best to do this latest task. I will flourish in the joy that the boy is pooping and peeing in the toilet and that I don’t have to deal with diapers at the moment. And I will also bask in Younger Boy’s excitement and delight that he is going to the bathroom like a big boy.

His latest phrase is, “When I learn to wipe my butt I can go to preschool!”

At least I have something motivational enough on my side to help leverage him to want to learn to wipe.

Identifying the Poop Dance

So, Younger Boy indeed has been trained to go potty on the toilet. And the next step, training to go poop on the toilet, has indeed been more challenging.

True Life Poop Experience Story (Detailed – queasy stomachs should not enter)
I work from home, for my company down in Southern California. I do Internet stuff, thus still attend my weekly Internet meetings via the phone. Usually during Internet meetings (or any meetings) Younger Boy is sent into his room to play. During last week’s meeting I glance over into the room and see him, assuming the position of slightly bent leg, leaning against the bunk bed. The phone is on mute:

Me: What are you doing?
YB: I don’t know.
Me: Do you have to go potty?
YB: No
Me: Do you have to go poo poo?
YB: No

I walk in there and am met with the wonderful smell of fresh 3-year-old poop.

Since I have the phone in hand, I am unable to scoop him up and run him to the bathroom. Instead I have to rush him to the bathroom.

Little droplets of brown poo leak every other step onto my poor, poor carpet on the way to the bathroom. (From this alone I know it's going to be a winner.) We get there and I pull down his Thomas underwear to meet the sight of what looked like freshly created liquid and mushy mud.

Spectacular! *My most favorite sarcastic expression for displeasure*

He steps out of it and automatically gets handed the soiled underwear.

Me: Where do you go poo poo?
YB: I don’t know
Me: In the toilet. You go poo poo in the toilet. Put it in the toilet.

He really doesn’t want to touch the underwear. So my free hand and both of his hands have to work together to dump it in there. He then gets placed on the toilet in the chance there’s more to come. There isn’t, but the wonderful liquid and mush dribbled down on the step stool, the side of the toilet and smears onto the seat as he scoots off. He also takes this opportunity to start flicking and waving his hands around to get the liquid off. This spatters on the shower doors and the floor, yet amazingly none on me.

I am on the phone this entire time, listening to the meeting.

He then is placed into the shower. He dislikes showers, but is slowly learning that peeing and pooping on your self results in a shower.

Of course, this is the moment that I am asked, “Crys, do you have anything to report?”

‘Beep’ goes the mute button. “Why yes, I do. The Virtual Dogs blah, blah, blah.” I give my report from the hallway, as I glance down at the shower to Younger Boy motioning with my hands that he ought to be cleaning himself off. He does, at least, copy my motions and manages to get most of it off.

After I’m finished with my report, ‘Beep’ the mute button gets put back on and I resume in the cleaning up of the bathroom. [I'd like to take a moment to pay tribute and be thankful for Clorox wipes.] And then bust out the soap. Since he’s in the process of getting cleaned, he gets his hair shampooed also. The meeting finishes up just as I’m drying him off and handing him new, clean underwear.

I’ve just successfully attended a meeting and cleaned up a poopy 3 year old.
The End

Since then, I have become quite more observant, no matter what I’m doing, of his body language. Any pointed legs, shifted body positions while standing or sudden standing up accompanied by hand going to hold at butt results in this exact conversation.

Me: What are you doing?
YB: I don’t know.
Me: Then why don’t you try going poo poo on the toilet.
YB: *Runs off to the bathroom*

This has been 90% successful. The other 10% has resulted in not having to go. He hasn’t (knock on wood) had a repeat following that Thursday of pooping in his underwear. He has had smears as he takes his underwear off to get on the toilet. I’ll take the smears please.

My mission – Identify the poop dance and try to help him identify that the poop dance means he has to go poop. Hopefully, he’ll put it all together and run by me saying “I have to go poo poo!” and I won’t have to be quite as attentive to if he is dancing his Poop Dance.

Instant Mom Adventures In Potty Training

I wanted to share something that I’m proud and excited about. Since I’m working from home I’ve been working with Younger Boy on potty training.

When I first moved in (September 14, 2008) Younger Boy was in diapers. Never indicated when he had to go potty, just went in his diaper. Yet he was showing signs that he could control it.

I wondered if his resistance to go potty had anything to do with the divorce (his last stance to hold on to anything he knew from before), a lack in support and encouragement to go potty in the toilet (my boyfriend was the only one encouraging it, but since he works during the day Younger Boy was with people who weren’t encouraging it) or a combination of the two with a dash of stubborn. (The latter being Highly likely.)

And then I came along.

After about a week of having to work and change diapers I got pretty tired of it. I went out and bought some training diapers on September 22nd. He started to show some progress, but figured out that the training diaper was just a fancy diaper that worked like his big brothers’ underwear.

Well, I will not be outsmarted by a 2 year old.

I went out and bought toddler underwear. And since Thomas & Friends are his favorite things in his 2 year old life right now, I found some Thomas & Friends underwear. And I decided to ask him what he wanted.

Me: Do you want to wear a diaper or Thomas & Friends underwear?
YB: Thomas underwear.

So we started working on wearing underwear. And oh boy, did my poor carpet get some leaks. (It made me kind of chuckle because the apartments charged a pet deposit fee, and I must say that Younger Boy has put more stress on this carpet then both of the cats combined. Maybe they should, instead, charge a Child Deposit Fee.)

I used a potty chart with heart stickers for going potty on the toilet, and a fish sticker for going poop on the toilet. Here’s a picture of the chart and Younger Boy’s progress:



Not too many fish on there, yet. But, he is recognizing when he has to go potty. He’ll actually go running by me on his way to the bathroom announcing “I have to go potty!” and triumphantly comes out saying “I get a heart.”

He also is sleeping in underwear all night, and wearing underwear all day. In fact, I’ve thrown the remaining training diapers up on the closet top shelf (reserved for out of town trips in the near future, but hopefully not distant.)

Achieved:

• Peeing on the toilet
• Wearing underwear full time (out of training diapers)
• Becoming aware that “I have to go potty”
• Acting upon that awareness
• Can put clothes on and pull them off (with some assistance now and then)
• Sleep through the night without wetting the bed
• Sleep through a nap without wetting the bed
• Being able to hold it when someone else is in the bathroom

Next on the list:

• Becoming aware that “I have to go poop”
• Acting upon that awareness
• Pooping in the toilet. (Oh yeah.)

I thought that it was about time to share something exciting from my experience. I don’t require a pat on the back, but it is nice to be able to see that I’ve made a difference. Who knew that seeing the number of those hearts grow on that chart could inspire me that “Yes, I can be an instant mom and, hopefully, do a good job at it.”