Happy to report that Bam-Bam is about 95% potty trained. His last holdout was pooping in the toilet. He's actually pooped in the toilet about 6 out of 7 days this week. Success! So what if I have to bribe him with treats.
Oh, and along the same vein with potty training. Funniest thing happened to me yesterday at the mall. Hubby, Bam and I were at Parisian shopping the Good Will Sale when suddenly Bam decided he needed to go pee. I thought it was a little strange because he had just gone about 10 minutes before that. Anyway, I suspect it was because I announced that I had to go potty and he wanted to come with me. And ladies and gentlemen, how do I put this delicately, I had to go....bad....and it wasn't pee. Seems my Metamucil kicked in at just the right moment. Sorry to be gross but when you've gotta go, you've gotta go.
Anyway, Bam came in the bathroom with me and insisted that he wanted to go pee-pee right now. I stood there with him trying to be patient but with a pressing need of my own. He tried and tried and could not get any pee out. Meanwhile, my stomach was cramping while I tried to keep calm. Then as he was standing there trying and getting mad at me when I suggested he try later...it happened.
If you know anything about a 2.5 year old you know that they often have to be holding some sort of miniature toy at all times. There I stood, desperately needing to "make a deposit" and squeezing my gluteus maximus muscles as though I was watching a Tony Horton video, staring at this friggin' 3 inch whale sitting precariously at the bottom of a public toilet. If you know me, you know that this was horrifying for me. I am not exactly a fan of germs or public toilets in general. In fact, the first thing Bam-Bam says when we enter a public facility is, "don't touch!" because he has been taught not to touch ANYTHING in the public restrooms.
I stood there for what seemed like an eternity pondering my situation. I looked at my poor baby, his face wearing an expression of disbelief and I said to him, "well, we have to leave it."
HE.LOST.IT. That's when it occurred to me, with clenched cheeks and all, that I needed to be a hero. I needed to roll up my sleeves and pull out that whale and save the day. Poor Bam was already disappointed enough that he couldn't pee. To lose his whale at such a critical point would truly be devastating.
In slow motion, I rolled up my sleeves.
I looked at Bam-Bam and said the following, "Mommy is going to do something that I don't want you ever, ever to do...."
I plunged my hand into the toilet, thankful that it at least appeared to be clean and ignoring the fact that I STILL had to go to the bathroom myself (or trying to ignore it anyway).
And thankless. Bam stood there crying his head off because he couldn't pee. And I could not...physically could not....stand there and let him try any longer. I stood at the sink cleaning that whale as long as I could and then ushered out Bam-Bam to his waiting father so I could go back in and take care of my own business.
The things we do for love.
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