It's toilet training time. Now that I've decided on it, I have to push forward. The worst thing about this process is having to be so fake all the time. I turned red and asploded rather than laugh at the video of the little boy bending over to show us the little hole where poopoo comes out, and I had to retreat entirely when The Bug bent over in front of the mirror to see for himself. When it doesn't work out and there's pee on the couch and poo in his underwear I cannot show how frustrated I am; I have to be all supportive and move forward and plop the poo into the toilet and say "bye bye poo poo" and drop one little dollop I missed on the way to the washing machine.
And of course, he's "scared" constantly. I know when the kid is really scared for godsake, and when he is, he does not say he's scared. He has all other vocabulary for that.
He's in the bath now and you should see my hurricane of a house and the laundry and the CD I'm supposed to burn for my ma and the grime he's coating the shower with and the toilet targets he's supposed to pee on and the milk solidified in his cups and what workout? What writing? I'm doing lunges through the house. I'll use his naptime to clean because I get two things unloaded from the dishwasher and he's got some other whammy to throw at me. I should be washing his dirty ass right now but I felt myself losing it just a tad and knew if I didn't take ten minutes to type this that I'd bark at him.
posted by Samus @ 11:50 AM
3 Comments:
Here we are again, cross reading and posting...
So, it gets better...but there are new frustrations and hurdles to cross...
At least he doesn't poop in his legos, or, as I did once when I was a young toddler--in his highchair at the dinner table when guests are over.
Oh, no. He does that too. He poops anywhere. Today I was lucky; he pooped in his underwear while in the backyard. One morning I walked into his room (why is he so quiet?) to find him painting his walls with his poop. That's what I mean about standing there with a wipie going... oh god. Where do I... how... DON'T TOUCH YOUR MOUTH!
When I was little, I once slept-walk into my little brother's room and pooped in his toy box.
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