POOPEE

Me:  Hi, Drewbie. How was your day? 
Drew:  It was poopee.

Me:  Drew, do you want applesauce or yogurt?
Drew:  I want poopee.

Me:  "....Bless us, Oh Lord and these thy gifts...."
Drew:  POOPEE

Drew is obsessed with poop these days.  Obsessed.  It's poop this, and poop that.  Poop on his face, poop to eat, and poop in his pants.  Poop everything, poop everywhere.

Except in the toilet.

And I'm about over it.

With Emma, it was so easy.  During Andy's Spring Break (when she was 2 1/2), we decided we were going to potty train her.  Against our sitter's wishes, even (there's no way you'll be able to 100% train her in a week....and quite frankly, I'm sure she didn't want to bother with all the accidents)....but that weekend, I made a chart in the bathroom.  She got a little sticker every time she went pee and big sticker when she went poo.  And within 3 days, she was 100% potty trained.  Has maybe had an accident or two since.  Maybe........and that probably includes an overnight accident.

She's always the one who just "gets it."  She's the rule follower, the leader, the boss.  She's the first born.  And yes.  She's a chip off the old block, ifyaknowwhatImean.  *wink,wink

And then there's Drewbie. 

Our little Drewbie.

Love him to pieces.  But I'm about over this whole crapping-in-the-diaper-thing.  The kid knows when he's going to poop.  Hell, he gets up out of chair - or stops whatever he's doing - and goes under our kitchen table to go poop.  Yes, the underside of our kitchen table has become his restroom.  So if he's able to stop what he's doing and go to a predetermined place to do his business....then he can certainly take care of it on the John. 

So.  One day at dinner, he jumps down from his seat and starts to go under the table............I immediately grab him up and take him to the toilet. 

Well, you would have thought I was putting him on the torture chair!  He started screaming and crying like something was stabbing him in his rear end.  "Put my diaper back on, put my diaper back on."  So, I caved and put his freaking diaper back on so he could shit in it.  Sorry to be so blunt.  But I'm soooo over it.  And was even more so at this particular moment.  Have you ever smelled an almost 3-year old's poop?  No?  Well, come on over.  The older they get, the worse it is.  You have a 1 year old?  No problem.  The stench-o-meter is totally tameable.  How about a 1  1/2 year old?  No biggie.  2  1/2?  Eh....starting to get a little gross, but still.  You can manage.  But a 3 year old....that's like changing a grown man's diaper.  I could go into details, but I do value our relationship.

So that weekend, Andy & I went to Wal-Mart to pick out a "Big Boy Potty" for Drew.  Thinking that maybe the toilet just scared him.  I mean, I guess it could be kinda intimidating....a big, white monster.  Ready to gobble you and your poo up!

But nope.  That wasn't the problem, either.

Let me paint you picture.

As we turn down the aisle where the potties are kept, Drew is patiently and happily sitting in the shopping cart.  Potties are on the left side.  Bath toys on the right side.  Drew notices the potties and immediately turns his head to the right.  Won't even LOOK to the left.  "Drew, which potty do you want?  Do you want the Elmo potty? How about the Cars potty?  Wow....look how cool the Cars potty is. It makes noise. Vroom, vroom."  Drew: "No, I don't WANT a potty."

Five minutes later, we're still trying to convince him that potties are cool.  Even Emma's getting into it.  Hell, we're doing so much selling, she's probably thinking that she needs a Big Boy Potty, too!

But he won't budge.  He's bound and determined to not even look in that direction.  Doesn't matter if we move the shopping cart, he just turns his head.  Finally, I just throw the freaking Cars potty in the cart and move along to the kid's clothing section.

Next stop, Big Boy Underpants.

"Drew, do you want Toy Story underwear or Cars underwear or Thomas the Train underwear?"  Drew: "NO. I don't WANT underwear. I poop in my diaper."  So I just grab his size and hand him the package.

He refuses to take it.

So I toss it in the cart.

He throws it out.

"I don't WANT underwear. I poop in my diaper."

Lord, help me for I have sinned.  I had.....*ahem*.......am still having horrible thoughts of smothering that poop that he loves to deposit in his diaper, all over my precious baby boy's face.