Here is a game we can play. You won’t win a prize, a giveaway, or shenanigans like that. You’ll only have the beautiful gift of feeling, for a brief moment, what it is like in my life.

Here are your clues:

1. I couldn’t find Isaiah

2. I found him in the towel closet

3. He piled up blankets

4. He pulled down his pants

5. He took off his diaper

6. When I asked him what he was doing he closed the door on my face and declared, “…..”

Tell me. What do YOU think he declared?

Give up? He screamed, “Close door mom! POTTY!!!”

Uh yes son, what was I thinking… I potty in the towel closet all the time! Someone want to come clean up my towel closet?

I ran out to the living room and yelled at Rusty SHE POOPED! SHE POOPED! and then ran back into the bathroom in case Norah decided to play with it or something. I cleaned her up and we showered and then ten minutes later she pooped in her diaper again. Ok, so the potty pooping was probably just a fluke, a case of blind good-timing on my part. But still, the next day I thought I’d try again.

I sat her on the potty and stupidly, this time I gave her some toilet paper before she did anything to earn it. She apparently has a better idea of what it’s for than I earlier thought because before I could stop her she reached down between her legs and starting dipping the toilet paper in the toilet water. So, she has a better idea of what its for, but she’s still not totally clear. And guys, I do not clean my toilets near often enough so basically Norah was playing in dirty bacteria poop water.

I swooped her up off the potty and ran to the sink to wash her hands as fast as I could because I just knew she was going to stick those poop water hands in her eye or her mouth and we’d end up with some kind of terrible disease that only comes from poop ingestion and then my pediatrician would know that I let my baby play with poop and don’t wash her hands, which I DON’T! So I sat her on the sink to clean the germs (on Rusty’s side of the sink, hehehe) and washed her hands until her skin was pink and disease bacteria free and the while she’s going “Gahh! Gahh! Gahh….” looking longingly toward the toilet and her precious pieces of toilet paper. The little sicko.

I picked up my clean handed baby to put a diaper back on her because clearly we are not ready for potty training and then I realized, too late, she’d already peed all over the counter. A bathroom fiasco in line with the time she flung a ball of orange Dorito poop dangerously close to her own head while I changed her diaper at school.

So yeah, maybe we are not ready to potty train. Norah’s interest in the potty seems to extend no further than eating graham crackers while sitting on the pot, repeating “cracker!” like a little naked parrot.

–Sadie

This morning started, as usual, with a little Isaiah waking up, screaming at me for “Elmos!” and “Grenik.” I poured his milk and started his morning shows and went about my mom business (Read: read all of your blogs). Isaiah removed his diaper about the time Elmo was asking Dorothy if she brushes her teeth.  I thought nothing of this…because, well, we are just naked people. I roamed to the bathroom with my laptop. I sat down to relieve my poor overworked bladder (thanks Baby #2)….  YES! Don’t scoff in disgust! I read on my laptop while I pee…. don’t act like YOU don’t either!

I digress.

 I hear Isaiah shout “OOOOOOOHHHHH!” He runs in the bathroom, and holds his penis and urinates all over me. Because, DUH MOM! Peeing on the person who is on the potty counts as success. He looked as his puddle (which has showered me, my laptop, the step he uses to climb to the potty, and the bathroom cabinet) with a strange look that said, “hmm… that isn’t right…..?” Then he ran off. Mission accomplished, job done. I didn’t know what to do first! I did stand up and tip toe to the hall to lay my laptop down- praying that Isaiah’s glorious moment had not met the wiring. Isaiah giggled as I peeled my clothes off of my body shrieking “Oooooh sick, damn it! siiiiiiiiccckkkkkk! SICK Pee goes IN potty not ON MOMMY ON POTTY!!!!”  Boy urine has some sort of freaky difference from girl urine, I think, because I was doing my best not to dry heave and die from the spell.   I told this story, right after it happened, to my friend Lindsey while chatting with her on Facebook (HI! Lindsey!)… she laughed her ass off. Well, I wasn’t there- but if I had been, I am sure her ass would have fallen off.

Mr. Wet Jet Antibacterial abated my fears and restored my bathroom to pre- urine war condition. I used FOUR Swiffer Wet Jet pads, because I was just that convinced that I was only spreading the piss around on the floor.

Welcome to motherhood! When life gets boring just watch out, you never know when you’ll get pissed on!

♥ Jasmine

You read right. I started potty training a while ago, then I went back to work and it fell into the “not so super important at the moment” pile. Since the initial tries, however, Isaiah has started removing his diaper and attempting to sit on the potty by himself. He refuses to put his diaper back on once it is off. So all day my little man bounces around the house naked. I ask, like a robot,: “Isaiah potty?  Isaiah pee pee?” Each times he smiles at me and, as coy as ever, responds, “Mom! Noooooo….”

This morning he removed his diaper and watched Sesame Street.  I was busy in the kitchen when I heard Isaiah shout, “Little Stinky MOM!” “Little Stiiiiiiiiiinkkkkkkkyyyyyy!”  I walked in the front room, imagining that it was some new character on Sesame Street. ” What Toad? Can I help…..”  I stood there realizing I was WRONG! Nope! Not a new character….It was literal piles of “little stinky”. Isaiah had polka-dotted the carpet with a bowel movement. He was leaning over one pile pointing and chanting, “stinky, mom, stinky mommy.”

I don’t think I am cut out for this potty training business!

Tips, Suggestions, HAZMAT suit?!!!

♥ Jasmine