Adventures in Potty Training: Volume 2

Obviously, Cam is a baby genius. From when I last wrote, we have gone from him pooping up the wall to saying (sometimes yelling), "poopie!" and him actually producing said item, as well as pee, in the toilet. Mitch discovered that he hates the potty we bought -- another product in a long line of bad baby investments -- and will only sit still on the actual toilet. He'd totally fall in if we didn't hold onto him, but he loves looking between his legs to see how well he's progressing.

We're certainly not 100% on this. A lot of the time he says poopie whilst doing poopie and we get to the toilet too late. Though it is funny to watch his dilemma about trying to say what he's doing while pushing and going red.

He's been remarkably good about doing both functions while out and about, which opens a whole new chapter in my life called "grotty public toilets." And what's really awesome about that, is how quickly Mitch developed his own response to potty training. Because when Cam says poopie at a restaurant or wherever, Mitch's response is, "Mommy, poopie. Good luck with that one." Sometimes he even follows that with, "Better go quick."

Were Mitch reading this or had any input on what I write whatsoever, he would say, "Hang on. I'm really good about changing his diapers and putting him on the toilet at home." As if this deserves a medal. But the most galling part of this, is that upon our return from Grottsville Toiletland, Mitch beams with pride and brags to whomever we're with how well Cam is doing and how we're so proud of him. Meanwhile, I'm the one who has rushed to the bathroom, wiped down all the surfaces I can manage while holding wipes and diapers in one hand, Cam in the other. Tried to keep his hands out of the water, off the seat, out of the feminine hygiene bin or away from the toilet brush. Tried to wrap the toilet seat in paper, but of course public toilets have that big gap in the front where all the gross stuff collects and that's inevitably where Cam slips into. Balanced everything -- including Cam -- on one knee so I can wipe him, and then manage to diaper him while he's standing. And then try to explain that he can't flush his poopie (a reward at home) because the germ-infested handle will only be touched by my foot. All the while missing a relaxing dinner with friends and returning to cold meals.

And Mitch takes credit for Cam's genius.

Back on the home front, today I'd just put him in his highchair for breakfast when he says poopie. So I took him out, put him on the toilet and nothing. I figure, I'll leave him without a diaper for breakfast, if he wees, he wees. And he wees. In a big puddle on the floor. He told me he was doing it, but there was no time. Put him on the toilet, nothing. Minutes later he does a big covert poo in his diaper, and after I wipe him down but before I get him in the shower, he runs to the oven -- his fave lookout point and play area as previously discussed -- opens the door and starts "cooking" on the stove. And as I'm watching him stir with a spoon in a frying pan, I see an arch of pee stream down the cracks of the oven and into the pan storage below.

In cleaning up, I've turned on the oven to burn off the pee, and as I type the whole house is filled with the aroma of hot urine.

As I said, we're not 100%. And Mitch really is good about changing his diapers and taking him to the toilet at home. And he also hopes that no one will have any qualms about coming over for dinner.