A Whole Lot of Poop Talk

So I'm 31 now.  My little party got postponed because my dad got sick, but the kids couldn't let the day pass without singing to me and giving me their presents.

Luke was so proud of these slippers.  I love them because they keep my feet warm but mostly because he picked them himself.

Ava got me a strawberry nightgown, of which I have no picture because I don 't want to injure your retinas.  The ironic part is, she left me this note a few days ago.

Cute is the last word I would use to describe myself right now at 8.5 months pregnant.  But that girl is so sweet she could give you a cavity and I might keep that note forever.


And Max? His present was more than I could have asked for.

He peed on the potty, twice. Of his own volition.  We stopped at the store Tuesday morning to get his requested Star Wars undies.  They didn't have any so he settled for a Justice League pack.  I have bought so many packs of underwear in hopes of enticing him out of his fear of potty training, but even with a drawer full, he just couldn't get over it.

Last Tuesday, the stars aligned, and he told me he needed to go and he did.  He's been in underwear during the day since and he's kept them dry and it's been fantastic.

Except for one little problem.  He won't poop.  At all.  Not in a diaper at night.  Not in the potty.  Not even in his underwear. Until today that is.

He pooped his pants at the arboretum.

We went because the kids were out of school.

 The weather cooperated pretty well

and we walked around,

 had some lunch, and things were just swell.

  After about 2.5 hours post-potty I started to get a little concerned.  Because Max's other stipulation is that he will only go in the "froggy potty" which obviously is only at our house.  Just as I voiced my concern to my mother, I heard him yell, "I spilled in my pants!" The poor Flash underwear had to be sacrificed to the trash but I think it was enough motivation not to desecrate anymore of his beloved super hero underwear.

Luckily I was prepared, I got him cleaned up and we headed home.  Once we'd been home about an hour he told me he needed to go.  And he did! We were so excited! Then he proceeded to poop 8 more times over the course of the next hour and fifteen minutes.   He'd saved it up apparently.  He was so happy with himself he was running around saying things like,

"I'm so proud a youuu!"


"Oh yeah, oh yeah!"


"I'n da man!"

I'm not convinced that we're out of the woods yet, but surely, we're headed in the right direction!