Target practice

As I prepared in my mind for the summer heat that has finally arrived, I had high hopes of introducing the boys to the swimming pool and helping them fall in love with the water just as I did as a kid. Long days splashing and playing and staying nice and cool-with a dry towel close by to wipe our eyes, of course. What better way could there be for a mother and her boys to endure those hot summer days!

We picked a day last week when a little cool water was just what we needed to freshen us up in the muggy heat. We cleaned out the green, turtle sandbox, filled it with water, and we were ready to dive in. At the time, neither of the boys had swim suits, but I figured since we were just out back, they could swim in their diapers. After realizing that really saturated diapers can turn your kids into weebles, the kind that do fall down, I did some scrounging in the dresser and found some training pants that I thought would be just right.

The baby refused to have any part of those potty pants, but I told Cooper that they were just like Daddy’s panties, so he jumped in them with both feet and was ready to rock and roll.

Before long, the “feeling of freedom” must have come over Cooper because as soon as he realized he was allowed to run wild in the yard-without the soggy bottom boys in tow-a smile came across his face that was a reflection of sheer joy. It was better than the discovery of a two-week old bag of gold fish under the car seat. In that very moment, my dreams of teaching the kids to love the water turned into a “ready, aim, fire” contest…one in which I was not equipped to participate.

First it was the grass, then the dirt, then the side of the house. The harder I protested, the more fun this game appeared to become. It seemed there was no place on which he was afraid to “unload”, and quite frankly, I was a little nervous about chasing him around the yard while he was carrying a loaded weapon.

I decided to sit down on the porch, taking a more casual and unconcerned approach, thinking surely he would run out of ammunition soon. But he just kept coming back with more. And after the top-of-his-lungs, blood-curdling declaration of “Mommy! I’m gonna pee in your cup!” it clearly became necessary for us to conduct our first, sit-down, serious discussion about bathroom etiquette and public decorum.

I guess if there is a bright side, it’s that this is the closest we have come to potty training him so far. I’m not sure how much he took away from our discussion that day, but it solved the problem for the moment. Of course now all he wants to know is why Daddy stands up, and Mommy sits down. I think we’ll save that one for when he’s a little older.

And that’s All in a day’s work!