Put potty training, speech development and figuring out the idea of "you" and "me" and you have one bipolar, confused, often grouchy, often elated little guy.
This morning I was getting dressed to take him to school. I saw him wander into his bathroom, turn on the light and shut the door.
I pulled my shirt over my head and walked down the hall to his bathroom. I knocked.
"Come in!" he said.
I opened the door to find him naked, sitting on the potty (not even using a step to get up there) and pushing his penis down as he went pee pee all by himself.
My mouth dropped open.
"Look, Mommy! I did it! I did it!"
"Awesome job!" I looked around for his overnight diaper. "Where did the diaper go?"
"In garbage in MY room!"
I helped him off the toilet. He flushed and washed and then I gave him his monkey sticker for his chart. He ran out happily and made his way down the stairs. I retreated to get his clothes for the day.
And indeed, in his garbage can was one wet overnight diaper.
