On Gavin's first birthday, I sat him on the potty and he went. It was a shock, it was interesting, and it was almost a year ago.
He still wears a diaper all the time. And he still has some moments: in the last two weeks, he's pooped in the tub twice. Once while I was there, and once while I was away, which led to this call:
Ring, Ring:
Me: Hello.
Autumn: Dad. Gavin pooped in the tub!
Me: Um, what?
Autumn: Gavin pooped in the tub. (Laughing). OH MY, HE'S POOPING AGAIN (Screams)
Me: What...?
Autumn: NOW HE'S PEEING IN THE BATHROOM!
And it sort of went on from there.
The point if this isn't to tell you about Gavin's bad potty habits. It's to tell you that when we stick him on the potty, he goes. And he's saying potty more and more in a way that really means he wants to go.
He'll be two in June. And there's a real good chance that before this summer is out, we'll be out of diapers. Sure, there's lots to do. Last night for instance, I stuck him on the potty, making sure to point down his gun. He said book, and pointed to the book, which I dutifully looked at, only to see pee on my pants. He was peeing, and it was coming out so fast that it went over the little boy guard on the potty seat.
But he loves it. Stick him on the seat, and I think it makes him feel like a big boy. Which means, I guess, that he's a big boy.
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