Mama's Christmas Wish

Several times over the past week, I've joked that all I want for Christmas is poopy in the potty. Lest you think I suffer from unusually low expectations, we've been working with Alex for some time with very little luck on potty training. Particularly lately, we've begun to question our approach: does he actually know when he is going poopy? can he actually push like we're asking him to? does he have the ability to hold it and then not hold it at the proper time?  

And to those of you who just come to the blog looking for photos... my apologies. I suspect you feel a bit like you've stumbled into an entire herd of way more information than you wanted. It's just that potty pooping is a big deal to us right now. Anyone who has tried to potty train (especially those who have trained boys -- it seems they have more problems with the poopy part), has been privy to our excessive discussions on poopy, or has been to the house when a poopy has been made and we all celebrate, will understand why this is such a big deal to us.

Yesterday and today, I got my Christmas wish. It seems Alex can now poop on command. Not only did he start yesterday by pooping, he did it again today (twice), and when we were out in public actually asked to go poopy, then did so in the restroom. I'm sure we'll have some setbacks, particularly when he has to stop doing something fun (like - say - play with Christmas presents) to poop... but at least know we know that he knows what he is doing, and it can be done! 

I understand why parents put those silly "My kid is an honor student" bumper sticker on their cars. I think parenting is filled with several wishes that parents have for their children, that their children have yet to desire for themselves. There are things we do to our kids that - though they don't appreciate it now - we know they'll be glad they drudged through it later: like taking piano lessons and getting good grades and pooping in the potty. When we can't really see our children's own satisfaction at accomplishing something they didn't really care about in the first place, we are left with announcing our own satisfaction in a bumper sticker, or inappropriate restaurant conversation, or even a blog about poop. We know we are right to be thrilled, if perhaps a little sheepish at admitting our own joy.

I know I'll always look back on 2007 as the year my number one wish was a little properly placed number two... and how lovely that this was my greatest desire.