It’s been an awful winter. No doubt. With more snow in the forecast, I’m kind of ready to channel our angry snowman, hold my snow shovel to the sky and shout, “AS GOD AS MY WITNESS, I’LL NEVER SHOVEL SNOW AGAIN!” Except then we’ll have a blizzard so I think I’ll refrain from such dramatics. I will, however, share with you the silver lining of this long, cold, snowy, icy and otherwise awful winter.
LittleBrother is potty trained.
In the winter of 2007, BigBrother and I had to skip weekly coffee with my friends for weeks as he struggled to make heads or tails of his bodily functions. This time around we didn’t have to skip anything. Why? We didn’t get to go anywhere for three weeks anyway due to the weather. Therefore, LittleBrother got three weeks of running around the house in a shirt, underwear, socks and sometimes slippers. Sometimes he threw a pair of Babylegs into the ensemble and cute pictures happened.
Some people do hole up in their homes with their potty interested toddler. They turn down invitations. They avoid the store. They run out of food, starve and everyone goes insane. You know, kind of like what happens when twelve inches of snow get another six inches of snow and then get topped with three more and then some freezing rain as a cherry on top of the sloppy sundae of winter. We had no choice. We were stuck at home. Why not parade around in underwear, sit in the hallway outside the bathroom and put stickers on a piece of construction paper? What else was there to do?
We were brave. Or silly. Probably a little of both. He wore underwear to the calling hours and the funeral last week. Unlike BigBrother, he has no fear of public restrooms. In fact, he adores them. We visit them. Repeatedly. On every trip outside of the house. It’s been interesting but productive. Literally.
He still occasionally has a small accident. The other day, we were taking out the trash during naptime. We came back into the house to hear LittleBrother at his door, his little voice coming out from under, “Sorry, Daddy.” It’s okay, Bubba. Accidents happen. We do some reminding, of course, but he also asks and tells us when he needs to use the bathroom. It’s quite shocking. Writing about it is kind of brave. He’ll probably decide tomorrow that baby diapers are all the rage and I’ll cry.
Maybe it was the book. Maybe it was all that sign language we did with him before he became (wicked) verbal. Maybe it was the awesome underwear he got for Christmas. Maybe it was following anyone who went into the bathroom so that privacy was a thing of the past. Maybe he was so tired of being at home that he created a new challenge for himself (and for us). Maybe he was just ready. I don’t know. All I know is that, except for nights, we’re done with diapers. (Night time readiness is a physiological response, not a matter of training.)
So, despite the cold, long, annoying winter, I’m thrilled that LittleBrother is potty trained. He’s even wearing pants over his underwear during the day now. I maintain that pants are overrated but apparently it’s appropriate to wear them outside the house. Maybe we’ll stay in just a few days more. (Out of necessity. More snow on the way. Woo?)
(By the way, on the post I linked to March of 2007 and in the picture of LittleBrother in February 2009, the boys are wearing the same shirt. Apparently it’s a potty training favorite because it’s short in length which means no pee on it. Win.)