A wet, hot mess

Tonight’s discussion?

My last two interesting days filled with pee and poo. What do I mean? Oh, please let me share. I do so love to share with you.

Day One

Ok, so the last 2 days, Vince is a peepee machine. He is peeing on the potty all day long, with no accidents (but wearing a diaper at naptime). So awesome, we are so proud. So proud yesterday, in fact, I treated him to McDonalds (!!). On the way home, with that little red box riding shotgun, V announced to the backseat: “I peepee’d in my diaper”. (He wasn’t wearing one. Which I pointed out.”

“Oh”, he said. “Ok. Mummy I pee pee’d in my underwears”. Huh.

Well, I am glad that got cleared up. Vince waddled into the house with a HUGE wet mark on his bum and we went directly upstairs for a change. A change into another pair of underwears, since we were feeling positive!

About 25 minutes into the 2nd pair, V announced to the living: “I peepee’d ober dere”. Which he had in fact. And then walked through the pee, tracking pee-prints all across the downstairs. Which thankfully (Thankfully!!) is wood-laminate. Dude.

Up we went again. this time, I gave up. We went straight into the bath, then to nighttime diapers and then into pj’s and then right to bed. Ha!

Day Two

Another wondrous day of peeing in the potty! Oh how proud I was. Last night’s pee incidences brushed aside, I happily walked into his classroom to a happy Vincent wearing ‘underwears’. One who had just done a pee on the potty! Hurrah! Day two!

And so Little Man ventured home, in underwears, stat rushed to the potty when we got home to prevent accidents. I thought I was learning from yesterday.

Then. Oh my. And then…

Then” Vince announced “Mummy, ders a poo ober der”.

And there was, actually. A teeny nugget. On the floor. I instantly thought it was the dog and yelled at him over my shoulder automatically. And then he pointed out another nugget.

“Vince? Do you have a poo in your pants?”, I asked skeptically? Surely my child wouldn’t have donnnoooooohhh look, he had”.

And literally every step we walked, little poop shot out of his underwears. To the extent where Edward said to me “I’ll take of it down here” and I picked up V and held him gingerly by his hips as i carried him upstairs.

So  as we walked up the stairs, I encountered a ‘stealth poop’, which is what we call the dog pooping in the house. Which he does, in the most random and secretive of locations, so secretive that it ends up turning into a treasure hunt.

Gah! So annoyed!

And then gah!! Must deal with more poo! With great trepidation, I lowered his pants to the sound of poop musically raining down on the bathroom floor. And thudding. And then noticed a wet spot on my tank top, where I had been peed on while I was carrying him upstairs to deal with the poo….

See? See what I mean? Just showers (literally and figuratively) of pee and poo. Showering on me and other parts in my house.

Bah! Gah! Meh! Booooo!

Day three could be the charm… Right?

I am going to confidently assume that.

xoxo a.m.

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