Poop

When I grow up, I am going to open a playground/amusement park for toddlers. I will not spend a lot of money on the latest, fanciest, most innovative equipment. And I will not spend a lot of money on sprinklers and lazy rivers. I will call it Potty World, and I will fill it with potties...and all of the things (well, most of the things!) that go with potties.

Today I felt like I was living in Potty World, only it wasn't nearly as fun as the one in my head! Micah has pretty well mastered #1, as long as you kind of keep tabs on how much he has had to drink, how long it's been since he last went, and remind him every now and then. He's been struggling with #2, though. We went for nearly two straight weeks without making it to the potty. He would hide instead -- under the table, behind the rocking chair, behind his Elmo chair, in Conner's bed. If he went missing and it got too quiet, I knew it was already too late. I've developed quite the system for rinsing poop out of undies and leaving no stain! (There's a spot in my yard that's been getting a lot of good fertilizer. Too bad it's getting the Shout and OxiClean with it...) The good thing was, though, once he had done his business, I was safe for the rest of the day.

Well, something started to click in the past several days, and (with the help of a very watchful eye and some prompting) he's made it to the potty every time. Then something really clicked yesterday...he went three times, getting increasingly excited about the whole process everytime. Today, now that he's in bed asleep, I think I can say that the final count was seven. Micah spent most of his waking hours today in the bathroom. He decided he wanted to go poopy in the potty so he'd go sit. And sit. And push. And sit. And talk. And push. And take a break and lay on the floor beside the potty (with softie, of course!) And sit. And push...until he forced something out. Seven times. Seven long sit-and-waits, seven turn-around-and-touch-your-toes-so-Mommy-can-help-you-wipes, seven dumping the potty chair contents into the big potty, seven flushes, seven cleanings of the potty seat, seven new pairs of undies (not because he needed them, but because he wanted them)...seven of the sweetest I'm-so-proud-of-myself-grins you've ever seen. He has been soooo excited. And, along with the poopy excitement itself, comes toilet paper excitement, sink excitement, soap excitement, underwear excitement, flushing excitement. I can't say much for little girls, but little boys, it seems, even become more aware of and interested in some "other things," too...

This afternoon he came running to me and Bret, saying, "Micah got a big one mess." Here's what we found: This was after he had, earlier this morning, torn another entire roll into shreds and put it all into the potty. I had to fish most of it out to keep it from clogging. Uggh!

But, aside from the toilet paper incidents and a handwashing mess he did great, making it to the potty in time every time...so I decided to send him to church in big boy undies. (He's been wearing pull-ups when we're not at home.) There's no way he could have any poop left! Besides that, as a general rule, these days he just doesn't go poopy unless we're at home. I should have known when I walked by at one point during class and saw him hiding in the corner. When I opened the door to pick him up, I was greeted by the smell and a grocery bag of clothes begging for my new-found expertise. The Potty World in my head has no smell or rinsing of the undies...