Ode to a Toad

It's not really an ode. I thought about writing one, but I suck at poetry. Prose is more my style, but "Prose to a Toad" sounded stupid.

The toad in question is this one.

Actually, it's like this one, but with blue where the orange part is. That's very important.

During the last week of school, Luke's interest in wearing underpants increased to the point that the first thing he did each evening when we got home was change into some. He can do that himself now. I know this because I accidentally got the underpants out of the drawer one time when he intended to do it himself, and after I had dressed him completely, he undressed and changed underpants to a pair that he got out of the drawer. By himself. It didn't matter what kind, just that he did it himself. The independence? It's lovely and also frustrating. So frustrating.

Still, though he was working really hard, he had not been successful with the actual using the potty part of the operation. Until last Friday night when a small miracle occurred in our life and he used the frog potty at Grandma's house. Three times. We brought it home with us. And, we bought another one the next day. The newer ones have the orange bowl; it was just barely acceptable. The blue-bowled frog is very much his preference.

He used the potty all weekend, even at church in a not-frog potty. Since Monday, he's been wearing underpants for all of his waking hours and he has not had an accident yet. He even went yesterday afternoon when I suggested he just try before we left Aunt Becca's house - on command. He made it happen.

This "potty training" business went just like I thought it would. As soon as it clicked, it was game on. Potty training. Whatever. The only training we've done involves the careful emptying of the bowl (which he must do himself) and hand washing, the rest was just me freaking out like a fool everytime he uttered a breath about needing to potty and washing lots of laundry.

I already feel like I can take him out of the house in underpants and he'll be able to make it to a potty and use it. He still asks for a diaper to poop in, but that's fine with me. We can work on that later - preferrably when he's comfortable sitting on the big potty. I'd rather change poopy diapers than clean poop out of a little plastic bowl, but maybe that's just me?