Smiling Mom

Hey, keep your voices low! Don’t let her know that I’m talking about this!

To say I’m superstitious would be a very fair assessment of the situation. Lower your voices everyone.

Ready?

eClaire is beginning to go potty in the toilet.

Seriously.

When’s her second birthday? Oh ya, mid January!

Every night eClaire asks to go potty before I put her in her jammies. So lately I’ve been putting her on the toilet. She’s been giving a few potty drips a day which warranted the crazy mom and family dance around the house and a special sugary treat.

But last night when eClaire asked to go potty, my dear daughter let loose and peed, I mean really peed.

Smiling Mom was thrilled!

And then, as if it couldn’t get better, this morning eClaire stood up and said, “I go potty!”

I took off her jammies and diaper. She ran to the bathroom, hopped on the toilet AND WENT POTTY!! A LOT OF POTTY!

Ok, I’m whispering again, I just got very excited!

Smiling Mom did her obnoxious, “eClaire went pooottttyyy” dance and dished out the goods.

Is this the beginning of the end of diapers for me??? weeeeehhhhheeeee!!

Last night BC slept in his PJ’s without a pull up.  All night long!!

I woke him up around 11:00 to go to the bathroom, and again at 4:30 when Hubby went to work.  But he stayed dry throughout the night.  Actually he’s been dry for the last few week hence last night’s attempt.

In the daze of the night I found myself saying:

SM:  Please, please don’t fall asleep on the toilet.

SM: I didn’t see the shake shake.  How am I suppose to know if you went potty yet?

SM: Make sure you push your penis into the toilet so you don’t spray me with potty.

SM: I know your penis is sticking straight out, but you still need to try to go potty.

SM: Good boy!  If you need to go potty, just get out of bed and go.  Don’t call for me, just go.  Then go straight back to sleep.

SM:  Please.  Straight back to bed.

Apparently I’m not the only one discussing bathroom issues these days!

Here’s the scene:

A friend’s son’s first birthday party. It’s 100 degrees outside. Yes, in April, one hundred degrees. We arrived just 10 minutes before. BC had already befriended a couple girls in their early twenties and was asking them to play. eClaire was dressed adorably in her baby doll red and white flower dress, coming just to her bottom with red briefs underneath. She was standing in the corner of the backyard, holding onto the fence, staring expressionless at the lady trying to make nice to her.

Could that be eClarie’s ‘poop’ face I see? Couldn’t possibly! eClaire already had a nice, mushy diarrhea just hours before. Damn molars. Na, she’s just being shy.

eClaire is feeling more comfortable, walks toward the rented circular table and says, “Hi,” to the lady who was previously making nice to her.

Smiling Mom: “Ah, that’s nice. She rarely talks with people other than those she’s most comfortable with.”

eClaire to me: “Up, peese” I love the manners on my 15 month old. Or maybe she just doesn’t know any different at this point.

I promptly lift her up to my lap. She’s clingy, and I feed into it. I just love having a daughter who wants to be cuddled by me.

She sits on my lap, and immediately gets down.

I look down ,at my lap, to my cute new shorts and my inexpensive, yet stylish new tank top.

There is a puddle, Puddle of liquidy, chunky diarrhea laying on it.

Diarrhea number two of three for the day just happened.

That little shit.

So the other night my very verbal 2.5 year old son, BC, informed me that it was time to call Grandpa, something we do often. So I dialed Nonnie & Grandpa’s phone number, put them on speaker phone and handed it to BC. My son is at the point where he’ll carry on a complete conversation without any prompting, so I just let the conversations evolve as they go.

Grandpa answers the phone: Hello

Getting right to the point BC says: Hey Grandpa

Gpa: What!

BC: I’ve got to go poo-poo.

Gpa: So, go.

BC: No, I want to go at your house.

(We live in Northern California and Grandpa lives in Southern California, 7.5 hours away)

Gpa: Sure, come on down, and you can go.

BC: OK, (turning to me) Mommy, we need to get in the car and go to Grandpa’s house.

The conversation continues for another minute or so about the same topic.

Finally Grandpa says: Hey BC, do you think you can hold your poo-poo until you get here? It’s a long drive.

BC: (5 second pause and an incredulous look on his face) NOOOO, Ew, that’s gross, Grandpa. I’m not going to hold my poo-poo. YUCK, (turning to me) Mommy, Grandpa told me to hold my poo-poo. Eww!!

Essentially BC was saying, “What kind of Dumb-A** tells his grandson to take his poop and put it in his hand? Does he think I’m stupid??” At this point all of us were in tears laughing. It couldn’t have been funnier!

Two days later, BC, Grandpa and I are still telling the story to anyone who will listen. I figured that I should probably document it so I remember to tell this tale at his graduation, wedding, or any other place I deem fit.

Do you have a funny “potty humor” story? Please leave me a comment telling me what was said or done!