The Kids

The Kids

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Time To Potty Train

Noah is a couple of weeks shy of being two, but I am thinking that he might need to be potty trained.

The boy and his poop are completely getting in my way of peaceful days.

I was on the phone with Direct TV the other day, upstairs in my room, troubleshooting why our box kept freezing up and not working.  I left Noah downstairs, happily watching his beloved Super Why.  The next thing I know, he comes into the room, naked from the waist down, holding his diaper in his hand and saying, "Dirty."

While putting on my best pretend "everything is great" voice with the customer service rep, I quickly ran downstairs to grab the baby wipes.  By the time I got back upstairs, Noah was standing there, holding the actual chunk of poop in his hand, saying, "Hot."


Thankfully, at this point, I was on hold while the rep attempted to fix the problem with the tv.  We deposited the poop, washed our hands over and over and over again, and covered his naked butt with a new diaper.  While I waited for the rep to come back, I realized that she had hung up on me. 

I was later told that it was a mistake, but I beg to differ.  Pretty sure she heard part of Noah and I's discussion about his feces and ran for her life.

As if that was not bad enough, I was making dinner the next day and everyone came home from school.  At that same moment, Noah woke up from his nap and started talking.  He was only left to be awake by himself for about three minutes, but by the time Nick went in there, it was pretty ugly.

As my hands were mixing food together, I heard Nick groan with shock and disgust.  Apparently, our little prince had taken off his poopy diaper and had taken the poop out so that he could throw it away. 

Use your imagination to picture what that would have looked like.

Nick put him directly into the bathtub while I finished preparing our food.  I mean, really, did anyone want me cleaning up the Noah mess while making dinner?  I eventually threw the sheet, the blankets, the pillow case, the lovey and his clothes into the wash, as they were all victims of the poop.

Okay, Noah, we are taking the hint.  You want to start using the potty.  Please stop sending these type of signs.  We just cannot take them anymore.

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