We are not a family who rushes in to potty training. With each of the kids, we've bought them a potty seat and a package of big kid undies around their second birthday and then just waited until they showed the signs of being ready to lose the diapers.
With Miles, it's been no different than it was with the girls. The green and white chair sits in the bathroom collecting dust and his Spongebob underwear are pulled out on occasion to be worn over the diaper.
It's fine though - every once in a while he decides that he wants to pee in the potty. Something about the ecstatic praise I'm sure!
Imagine my excitement earlier when he came into the bathroom announcing "Poo! Poo, Mama!" and then proceeded to get out the potty chair and remove every stitch of clothing from the waist down. He then sat down, a hand on each knee and did his business! Yesssss! "What a big boy, Miles! Good boy! Yea!"
Big Boy was pretty darn proud of himself too... until he turned around and got a look at his own poop. "Yuck! Eeeew! Yuck!" Complete with grossed out faces that adorable toddlers make, and then angry faces at my laughter.
I cleaned him up and asked him to go grab a clean diaper. Could it be this easy with a boy? Should I be so lucky? Oh, no. Absolutely not.
Instead of a diaper, he carries back a dress from the overflowing basket of clean clothes in my room. Still proud and looking slightly ornery, he proceeds to put the dress in his mouth, chewing on the beaded neckline. "No! NO! Miles don't chew on my dress! Stop! Noooooo!!!!!"
And stop, he did. He stopped chewing on the dress, turned around with that cute little bare baby butt pointed right at me, and began to rub my cute dress right up his crack.
Just one more reason why we will never have nice things.
