Potty Time

I've been spending some serious quality time with Buddy Boy and the potty.  And the washing machine and a canister of Clorox wipes.

I decided to go for it this week because:
1. Buddy Boy really wants to wear Pull-Ups at night like his big brother, but we reserve that great honor for those who are potty trained.
2. It looks like we'll be moving apartments in a few weeks, and I would most definitely rather potty train on my old carpet than my new.  In fact, is it too early to train Baby Girl?
3. The forecast didn't look like pool weather.  What else did I have to do?

So.  We embarked.

I've served lots of juice for the sake of practice.  I've served lots of animal crackers for the sake of sanity.  We haven't needed rewards, but he insists on me waving my arms over my head and doing a crazy little dance, while shouting "Wooo, Buddy Boy!  Hey hey, Buddy Boy!"  For every last dribble.  He uses signs for "potty," "more," and "all done," but sometimes he just looks at me with great urgency.  I also follow him around a lot.  There have been many successes.  There have been many accidents.  We're on day two...he'll go every time I put him on the potty, and stays perfectly dry if I take him to the potty about every 15 minutes (oh, my aching back!), but he's just starting to initiate the trip himself.

He'll get there.

He's pleased as punch to be wearing a Pull-Up for his nap right now.  And I'm pleased as punch that he's napping right now.