"Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family: whatever you call it,
whoever you are, you need one." -Jane Howard

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Here for the Potty.


I will never forget potty training Ashton.  I was convinced that potty training was a full-contact sport.  I was constantly hearing "PEE-PEE" and would yank up my little man, sprinting to the bathroom, planning my hose-management as I ran.  There was always pee somewhere: the floor, the seat, the wall... you get the drift.  This time around couldn't be more different, just as you might predict.  Reagan decided one morning that she was going to use the potty and really without very much coaxing, she's been going consistently on it since.

Ashton was totally interested in potty training, something that Reagan lacks, as it seems like she's just doing it because that's what your supposed to do.  Booooorrring...  Where is the giggle of delight when a trickling noise fills the bathroom?  Where's the thrill of finding poop laying in Elmo's basin?  Totally gone.  She's so over it.  I keep making this huge deal about everything, while she looks at me with the enthusiastic smile of 16 year old who catches the eye of her mom chaperoning the homecoming dance.

Nevertheless, it is nice to have our kids potty train themselves.  I don't know what that means about the adults around here... Is it weird to still be jazzed at 28 and 31?  We must be having a little too much fun doing our business, but hey, life's short.  We're here for the potty.

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