35 and a three-step program

If I ever have another child, I will officially be considered "advanced maternal age." Holy crap, I turned 35 today.

I asked Josh how it feels to be married to an old lady. He laughed. An old lady in a bikini in a hot tub with a beer in her hand, but an old lady nevertheless.

This milestone birthday is coming to you live from Lake Tahoe, thanks to a birthday gift of plane tickets from my parents. We'll be hitting the slopes tomorrow and Friday while the kids stay with Grandma and Grandpa.

We celebrated with the children last night and Emmie rewarded me by taking her first steps -- three of them, which ended with her plopping down on her butt and all of us wildly cheering and clapping. She smiled but looked modest at her accomplishment. She then threw a hissy fit because she was starving and we were preventing her from eating.

I am so glad she decided to do it yesterday when I could see it and not this weekend when I would miss it. Because let me tell you how pissed I would be if I missed her first steps after spending 24 hours a day with this child for the last year.

Then again, I am so old I might forget she has taken her first steps because of the dementia that should be setting in any day now.

Ear infection times two

On Saturday, Jack was doing a big floor puzzle and I was watching him from the couch. I noticed he kept shrugging his shoulder on one side, almost as if he was trying to touch his head to his shoulder.

I asked him why he was doing that and he replied, "Ear itchy!"

Realizing he was probably trying to express something he didn't know how to explain, I asked him, "Does your ear hurt?" and he looked like a lightbulb popped in his head and he said yes.

I called the doctor and got him in for an after-hours appointment at 3:15 p.m. I was informed I would have to cough up an additional $25 over the co-pay, but I figured he was worth it. Maybe. For that price, he damn well better have an actual illness, none of this "it's a virus, let it run its course" crap. In the meantime, I gave him some Motrin and put him down for his nap. When he woke up at 3, he was screaming.

"Ear hurt! Ear hurt!" he sobbed as I frantically got his coat on him and dragged him to the car with promises of the doctor making his ear all better.

Low and behold, he was indeed infected in the ear. With a prescription for Amoxicillin and Elmo stickers in hand, we were on our way in a few short minutes.

To recap, in the last two weeks our little family has suffered through four cases of the stomach flu, two ear infections (one double) and two colds that came complete with hacking coughs.

And it's only halfway through the winter cold season! I am thinking about sheathing myself in a protective bubble and bathing the children in hand sanitizer three times a day. I am telling you, it's those damn preschool germs that are doing us in.

Long time, no see

Guess who's coming over tomorrow? Guess, guess, guess! Give up?

My contractor.

He who has not been seen nor heard from since September. Oh, how we have missed him. He's coming over to give us an estimate on doing the upstairs bathroom. That would be the main one we use to shower and bathe the kids and get ready every day. Apparently, remodeling is like childbirth: you forget the pain and readily sign up for more a few months later.

If you ask Josh, we are strictly getting estimates. If you ask me, we're totally ripping the walls out tomorrow. We have a bit of a disconnect on this project, as you can see.

said bathroom holds the distinction of being the only room in the entire house that has not had any work done to it. As you can imagine, it is in serious need of some updating. Flowered tiles scattered throughout the plain ones, a whirlpool tub circa 1982, tile that still has the grout-spacers stuck in it and a sloping floor all make this bathroom a must-see!

But the prodigal contractor knows there are several fixes that still need to be done after the basement remodel and now he will have to see them and address them tomorrow. Perhaps he can share with me the reason a new gap is forming between the living room floor and the baseboard above the newly constructed staircase wall. Or the huge gap that has formed between the baseboard and the floor on the outside wall. We're talking a half-inch in spots. Oh the fun I had weatherproofing those gaps only to have my curious child crawl over and pull the weatherstripping out of the gaps thinking it was a midmorning snack.

And I want to take on another project that could potentially see me without a working bathroom on the bedroom level with two small children for weeks on end? Clearly I need to re-read my own archives from the gutting of the first-floor and the creation of the lower level. I just never learn do I?

I still like you Daddy

Tonight Jack previewed what life is going to be like in approximately 10 years around these parts.

Being almost 3, he is a curious boy who has a problem controlling his impulses. You can see the conflict on his face when presented with the choice of not hitting his sister or losing his video time. In almost every case, he chooses to hit her because he just can't stop himself. I forget this lack of impulse control more often than I should and am trying to be more mindful of allowing his 3-year-oldness to shine through.

This evening, I had to go out to buy diapers while Josh was giving Emmie her bath. Jack was watching his nightly video when I left, which usually means he is glued to the couch and can be trusted to stay out of trouble. He came upstairs at one point and Josh asked if he was done watching his video. He said no and went back downstairs. With a new Diaper Genie refill in his possession. One his father did not see him pick up.

When I arrived home, it smelled powdery-fresh throughout the house. I found a snaking pile of green plastic all over the living room carpet and a dark television screen. I walked upstairs and said, "I don't even want to know."

Josh said he heard the noise but didn't realize what it was until it was too late. Jack had pulled the entire length of plastic out of the container, ruining the contraption and rendering it unusable. As he was cutting the TV time short and taking a sobbing toddler upstairs for punishment, Jack told Josh, "No like daddy. Like Mommy."

Talk about a knife to the heart. You expect it at 13. Hell, you probably deserve it by 13 for all the terrible, mean things you have inflicted upon your child. But at almost 3? Poor Daddy.

And no, not even a little part of me was secretly glad to be the favorite. I felt genuinely sad for him. He said it didn't bother him, but it would have bothered me. I know Jack's just testing us to make sure the love is unconditional, and it certainly is, but it's still hard to hear. And I know that in the blink of an eye, his allegiance could switch to Daddy and he could leave me in the dust.

But oh my, if this is his reaction to losing TV time, I can't imagine what we are in for when it comes to things like bad grades and sneaking out of the house.

No pain, no gain

Emmie had her one-year doctor visit yesterday and as always, it was good news and bad news. Let's start with the bad news: she has yet another ear infection. This is her third in three months, but this time it's only a single ear, her right one.

I figured she had one after her nose started running like a faucet the day after she puked last week and the snot turned a lovely shade of green and yellow this weekend. She also woke up during the night on Monday, a surefire sign of ear troubles in this child. But the doctor ordered up a sulfur-based antibiotic for the next 10 days and we're hoping to clear it right up.

Now, the good news: Miss Failure To Thrive Six Months Ago is now between the 10th and 25th percentile for weight, tipping the scales at 19 pounds. She's 30.25 inches, which puts her in the 95th percentile for height, which she has been at since she was a wee baby. Her weight gain impressed the doctor, which was awesome. I was hoping for 20 pounds, so we could put her in the big-girl carseat facing forward, but it shouldn't take long to reach that last pound now that she's drinking whole milk and eating full-fat yogurt and cheese.

She's doing all the things she should be doing and he agreed that she's probably going to take her first steps any day now. Overall, a stellar appointment. Three shots and a finger prick for her lead screening and we were out the door.

Here's to making a new curve on the growth chart -- way to go Emmie!

Hope springs eternal

With today's inauguration of Barack Obama, I have high hopes.

Hope that the financial troubles with lessen. Hope that the country can right the wrongs of the last eight years. Hope that we can make this country a better place for my children.

I watched his speech and came away wanting to take responsibility. Wanting to do my part. Wanting to step up and help. And for the first time in a long time, I have hope that our country is on the right path.

Throwing (up) a party

Let me tell you about Emmie's big first birthday party. We had everything in place, the pizzas were on the way, the beer and soda were chilling in the ice tub and the cupcakes were on display. She was in her cute little birthday dress waiting for the guests to arrive when Jack woke up from his nap.

Josh went in to get him, took two steps into the room and announced, "Uh, Amy? Jack is sick." And with that, the Mommy in me went from party mode to parent mode. We got him out of his vomit-covered crib and into the bathtub, where Josh stripped him down and bathed him while I stripped the crib and got all the sheets and blankets and loveys into the wash.

Because it was 15 minutes before the party was set to start, it was too late to call the guests. We decided to keep him upstairs and warn everyone at the door that we had a puker. If they didn't want to come inside, we wouldn't hold it against them in a court of law. Even better if they offered to go upstairs and nurse him back to health.

Since Emmie had only puked once when she had it two days earlier, I figured he would be fine, but he was still sequestered upstairs. The two grandpas volunteered to play with Jack so we could attend Emmie's party with her and make sure everyone was having a good time.

No one ran screaming from the house when they arrived and heard the news, so the party went on. Uncfortunately, so did the puking. There's nothing worse for a mommy than being torn between two children who need you. Every time he puked, Jack would ask for me and I would run upstairs to see if he was OK and tell him how brave he was and then I would run back downstairs to celebrate the big milestone birthday with Emmie.

It was almost a blessing that Jack was as sick as he was because he had no idea what was going on downstairs. He just laid on the floor of our bedroom on a sheet, watching "Sesame Street" on a constant loop, occasionally playing with some toys we brought up for him. Also a blessing was that it was so bitterly cold last week because it meant we kept the kids out of the basement playroom, so he hadn't played with any of the toys in three days and therefor had not contaminated any of them and the guests could play with them without fear of germs.

Emmie had a great time and everyone sang Happy Birthday and she enjoyed licking her cupcake and daintily eating some of the cake and frosting. Mostly, she just crawled around and investigated all the people invading her house. As soon as the last of the kids departed, I went upstairs to Jack for the rest of the evening. In all, he threw up eight times over five hours. I can't thank the two Grandpas enough for all their help, from teaching him how to use the bucket to playing Hungy Hippos with him.

By 10 p.m., he could keep a teaspoon of Pedialite in him every 15 minutes for an hour and we put his pale little face in bed for the night. I figured he would be up all night, but he slept through the night and woke up the next morning bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Years from now, when he asks us why there's no pictures of him at Emmie's first birthday party, we'll just tell him we made him stay upstairs while everyone else had fun.

Emmie: Twelve months

Dear Emmie,

Hooray! It's finally the big day, your very first birthday! A year ago you hadn't joined our family yet and now here you are like you own the place. You have changed all of us in so many ways -- all of them good -- and I am incredulous every day at the little girl you have become. If you don't believe me, just take a look at the pictures I took of you every day for the last year to see how much you have changed.



A year ago I was still pregnant, thinking I had several more days before you were going to make your appearance. But you had other plans and in a complete reversal of your personality, you took charge and decided you were coming out 12 days ahead of schedule. That might have been the last time you ever imposed your will on me, because since your birth, you have been pretty much the most laidback kid I know.

That laidback attitude was evident this last month when it came to your attempts at walking. You are so content to just walk along the furniture and then let go and stand totally still. You can balance now for 30 seconds or more on your own, but if you want something, you gracefully plop down on your butt and crawl on over to whatever it is that has captured your attention. We have tried to get you to take a few steps, but you either throw yourself in the direction of the other person or you get jello legs and crumple to the ground laughing. I think you're really close to walking, though, and it won't be more than a couple of weeks before you do.



Your first birthday was almost marred by a case of the stomach flu, but you rallied and seem to be fine today. Yesterday you threw up for the first time and it was a shock to me, as I came into your room after naptime to find you in three puddles with vomit all over your clothes and in your hair. But true to form, when you saw me, you laughed and clapped. The world's happiest sick child. But it appeared to be a one-time thing and after several rounds of pedialite, you were fine and back to normal by this morning. Of course you developed a runny nose and a case of the Mommy Clings today, so there's probably a cold on your horizon.

This past month also gave you your first taste of presents. Your Christmas was fun and full of gifts, but like most kids, you were much more interested in the wrapping paper and bags than the toys and clothes. Your brother was more than happy to both unwrap all your gifts and play with all the toys on your behalf. That's brotherly love for you.



The relationship with your brother continued to be a little sketchy this past month. You really like to watch what he's doing at all times, getting right up with him and looking at toys or books. Unfortunately, he's not so into that and he tends to deal with it by hitting, pushing or kicking you. I have resorted to telling him not to touch you at all because he can't seem to find a way to be nice to you lately. I know this too shall pass, but some day when you ask why we let him abuse you, please know we gave him timeouts each and every time he hit you. Really. But there have been some good times between the two of you, mostly at mealtimes when the two of you sit in your chairs and make each other laugh. You love to watch him and he loves to say silly things and make you giggle. The best thing right now is how much he loves to come upstairs when you wake up from your nap. He hears you on the monitor and when I say we're going to go up and get you, he runs up the stairs and throws the door open and yells, "Gooooood morning Emmie!" and climbs up on the rail of your crib and pats your hands. You smile like a ray of sun and laugh and I stand watching the two of you from the doorway, content to know that you do have some parts of your relationship that are working and free from violence.



Perhaps things will get even better when you can talk, so you can express your feelings to him. For now, you are a pretty complex babbler. You can say just about all the range of babble sounds from bababa to mamama to dadada to rarara to wawawa and many more. We're trying to teach you a few signs -- notably "more" and "all done" -- but so far you just think we're really funny when we do them.

You are still nursing twice a day at this point, soon to be weaned. We have a little vacation coming up in two weeks, so you'll probably be fully weaned sometime around then. For now, you are still nursing in the morning and at night, and you get two bottles of whole milk during the day. You are not a fan of the milk and it takes some cajoling to get all 5 ounces down. I tried to get you to move right to a sippy cup with the milk, but you were so violently opposed to the milk itself, I figured I might get a better response by at least letting you drink it from a bottle. Hopefully as you get used to it, you'll stop fighting it so much. But thankfully your dairy intolerance is gone. You now eat cheese and yogurt and drink milk, all without problems. That's great news for your weight gain, as you should be porking up nicely in the coming months with all that fat and calories in your diet. You're still pretty adventurous when it comes to eating, and your favorites are turkey sandwiches, pita and hummus, chicken, peas and avocado, but you won't eat bananas anymore unless we mush them up in a bowl.



The fun part about your eating, however, is that you have entered the stage where when you are done, you just fling it on the floor. So one second you're grooving on your little pieces of avocado and the next, you're launching them across the room like you're throwing out a runner at second base. Even your brother knows throwing food is not cool and is quick to point it out to me when you start doing it. I know this is a stage that does not quickly die out, so I am not looking forward to months of telling you, "No throw!"

What I am looking forward to is more sleep. In the last month, you gradually gave up your last nightwaking at 4 a.m. and started sleeping through the night for 12 straight hours. We put you to bed at 7:30 p.m. and are greeted with pleasant chatter and your crib soother music at 7:30 a.m. We go in to get you and are greeted with a huge smile and outstretched arms. I knew you would get here eventually, and I couldn't be more excited about this development. There are some rare times where I miss our middle-of-the-night co-sleeping, but mostly I enjoy the ability to sleep on my right side whenever I want. And you sleep so much better in your own crib, that it's the best situation for all of us.

People always make such a big deal over the first birthday. There's cake and parties and presents and pictures. Tonight you had presents and cake, although you could have cared less about the presents and cried when you ate your cake. Apparently we could have given you a jar of veggies and you would have been much happier. But you can try again tomorrow at your big birthday bash. But looking back, there has been so much to celebrate this past year, it seems silly to celebrate it all on one day. You have brought joy and sunshine to our lives each day. There is not a single minute that goes by that I am not thankful for you. You are a joy to be around. Watching you learn new things is so much fun, I see things from your perspective and learn new things myself. One of your favorite games is to give us a toy and then have us say thank you and give it back to you. Every time we give it back it's like you've never experienced such generosity and you get so excited. I love to see that joy in your eyes and I hope it is there for the rest of your life. You have brought me such joy and happiness and I genuinely like the little person you have become. You are a social little girl who seems very concerned about others. I think this will serve you well in the years to come.



I love you so very much and want only the best things for you. This past year has been an incredible journey and your second year is going to be even better. Thank you for being such a fabulous little girl. We couldn't ask for a better daughter and sister.

Love,
Mommy

(Just want to throw a note out there for all the readers... Could you please leave a comment for Emmie on this post? Even you lurkers out there -- you can make it your first comment! I am going to print out the post and comments for her babybook, and it would be great to have all the comments for her too!)

Emmie 365

For the last year, I have been conducting a secret project. I didn't talk about it on the blog because I was scared I would screw it up and then look like a total jerk for not following through, but today I can proudly unveil my work.

I have taken a picture of Emmie each day since she was born. I like to call it "Emmie 365" and still can't believe I did something like this that took an entire year of commitment. There were days where she would already be in bed and I would jump up and grab the camera because I had almost forgotten -- those would be the pictures you see of her sleeping or the ones in her crib with her face in the mattress. I also have to give a huge thanks to her Grandmas for always having their cameras if I forgot mine and for taking the pictures when Josh and I were away.

I can't believe my sweetie Emmie is going to be 1 tomorrow! I will have the usual monthly post for her tomorrow, but I didn't want this to get lost in the birthday excitement. So without further ado, I present to you the last year in photos! (Final picture will be posted tomorrow afternoon.)
Emmie 365

(And remind me to tell you next week about how I walked into her room after naptime today and found her in three puddles of puke. Ahhh, good times. Apparently instead of a birthday cupcake, she'll be getting a candle in her pedialite tomorrow.)

Staying in the lines

Today Jack asked if he could color. I said sure, and grabbed a set of crayons he had gotten for Christmas.

He practiced writing his name, which somehow has acquired an H in it, and colored a few pages before annoucing he was all done.

I put the coloring book away and started to make dinner. A few minutes later, I hear him chattering about the green crayon and saying, "Mommy! Mommy! Jack use the green crayon!"

When I looked over the top of the island, I realized Jack was using the green crayon to draw a road around the fireplace on our hardwood floors. Apparently, I put the coloring book away but not the crayons.

I grabbed the green crayon out of his hand and told him we never, ever color on anything but paper and never, ever on the floor. I even told him that it was naughty, which is a phrase I have used probably twice in his entire life.

A wet paper towel didn't do much for the green strip now running through our loving room and kitchen, so I was freaking out. Such odd behavior for me, right? Because I have a stash of non-eco-friendly cleaning products in the house just for this kind of event, I grabbed a Magic Eraser and tested it out. And yes, it got the crayon right out. I then tried it on the various plastic-toy scuffs we have and sure as shit, same thing. I know it could possibly take the finish off the floor, but really, what's worse: little spots of dull finish or bright green crayon roads? (For the record, the finish looks fine.)

So a big thanks to everyone who got Jack art supplies for the holidays. They are now under lock and key, only to be played with under direct supervision, on the carpet downstairs.

I have the plague

So I either have the good old intestinal flu or food poisoning. Either way, I feel like death. Josh has played the role of stay-at-home dad today with great gusto. He even did the preschool dropoff and pickup. Thank goodness he was home this week. I honestly don't know what I would have done.

In case you were wondering, so far no one else is showing symptoms. Which is great. Because the last thing we need is a bunch of stomach flu victims when we are having a party this weekend. Methinks food poisoning since no one else got sick and it happened about six hours after I ate a Chipotle veggie burrito bowl -- the only thing I ate differently from Josh all day yesterday. Perhaps getting Mexican fast food right before closing time might not be the best idea for the future.

Here I am

Sorry for the unannounced break last week. Josh was working at home and we were busy with grandparents in town and memorial services and swim classes and snowboarding and date nights.

Not to mention the prep for the big first birthday. Oh my holy hell, my daughter is turning 1 on Friday. We have a party all planned, but hopefully none of the guests will be offended when we serve them chicken nuggets and cereal bars, because that's all we have in the house and I have yet to order the food for the party.

So in the meantime, look at some pictures of Emmie's first swim class! Jack goes too, since it's family swim, so he makes a cameo as well.

Nobody touch anybody

This has been a tryng week in the sibling relations category. Jack has been especially aggressive with Emmie and it's wearing on everyone's nerves. Lucky for me, Josh is home this week so he's been able to share in the fun.

Filed under "things I never thought I would say to my almost-3-year-old":
* You sister is not a road. Stop driving your trucks on her head. She doesn't like it.

* Stop touching Emmie. No, I mean it. Not at all, ever again. Never.

* When you head-butt your sister, it hurts her and makes her cry.

* Emmie doesn't like it when you close the toybox on her. And neither does Mommy.

* You know what? You are not watching Elmo tonight. In fact, you are not watching anything for the rest of your life. That was NOT NICE.

His response to any or all of these was to laugh and do more of the same. There's been a lot of timeout around here the last few days. Also, a lot of crying on Emmie's part. And a lot of whining on Mommy's part. And a lot of sighing on Daddy's part. We're just a fun bunch to be around. Who wants a playdate?

So we're going to start a star chart. Good behavior earns stars, bad behavior gets them taken away. If you don't have enough stars in the good column at the end of the day, you don't get to watch a video. Just to be clear, this is for Jack. I do not, contrary to what Josh thinks, need to earn my TV time.

If you've done something similar, can you give me any advice on how to implement this?

First preschool lunch

Today was Jack's first day of four-hour preschool. He had been going two hours, two days a week, but his school offers what's called "enrichment" for the second semester. That means he spends another two hours at school doing another class (science on Tuesdays and cooking on Thursdays) and eats lunch there, and I spend a leisurely morning at home eating bonbons and reading celebrity gossip.

I kid, I kid. I actually spent the extra two hours playing with Emmie, cleaning the kitchen and taking a shower. It was nice not to have to rush around like a crazy person trying to get stuff done, get Emmie down for a nap and shower all in 90 minutes.

Last night I packed up Jack's first school lunch in his new Laptop Lunchbox (no BPA or plastic bad stuff and it's super-cute) with great excitement. OK, not great excitement, but lukewarm enthusiasm. You see, his school requires nut-free, vegetarian lunches. So I couldn't pack his standby much-loved almond butter sandwich. Nor a turkey sandwich. Instead, he got a cold cheese sandwich. Doesn't that sound ... appetizing?

In addition, I threw in some carrots and some blueberries, a squeezable yogurt tube and some milk. All things he eats for lunch at home. All things he likes. I even put in a little note for him telling him to have a good lunch with love from Mommy, Daddy and Emmie.

When I unpacked the lunchbox at home after school, it contained empty spots where the cheese sandwich and milk had been. The carrots, blueberries and yogurt were still nestled into their original spots. Allrighty then.

Next up for Thursday: hummus and pita. This ought to go over real well.

She will be missed

Last week, as I was composing my post about Jack's potty-training adventures, we got some very sad news. My sister-in-law (and occasional snarky commenter), Marnie, lost her best friend.


Kindra is the blonde between me and Marnie (aka The Bride) in September.

Kindra was 30 years old, married two years and never got the chance to have the children she was looking forward to raising. Kindra was diagnosed with what turned out to be an extremely aggressive form of cervical cancer last April. She had the tumor removed and a complete hysterectomy this summer, but it spread to her lymph nodes and eventually, throughout her abdomen. She was an awesome girl and I am very saddened by this. Marnie was with her throughout the experience and was there when Kindra died; it has been very hard for her.

I first met Kindra when she lived two floors down from Josh and me at our old place. She was Marnie's roommate and genuinely the nicest person I have ever met. I remember her as a fun girl, always up for a glass of wine or just hanging out on the patio. She used to take her cat, Luna, outside on a leash and let her run around the yard while she was getting some sun. I always thought is was hysterical to see this little cat hiding in the lilac bushes and meowing loudly and Kindra, who was several feet away, chatting right back to her.

This past spring, I was lucky enough to spend a weekend with Kindra in Napa as part of Marnie's bachelorette weekend. Despite being diagnosed with her cancer just a few days beforehand, she still made the trip to make it a special weekend for Marnie. That's just the kind of person Kindra was. Always out to make things awesome for other people. In fact, she outlasted me one night that weekend. Yes, the woman with cancer stayed out later than the mom away from her kids for two days. Although, I am not sure if that says more about Kindra or less about me.

I would appreciate any positive thoughts you can send both to Marnie and Kindra's husband, Mark. He is a first-year teacher and now a widow. I am not sure how he is going to make ends meet as he is now responsible for paying off her staggering medical bills in addition to all the other everyday costs of bills and mortgages. Because of this, we are doing a SnarkyBabies fund-raiser for Mark. All proceeds from the sales of these products will go to help Mark.

If there is anything to take away from this, it is to listen to your body and speak up. Kindra had weird discharge and spotting for several months. The first time she saw the doctor in March, the PAP missed the tumor that was growing behind her cervix. When she went back in April because things weren't getting better, the second doctor (ironically, my own OB) knew it was cancer just by looking at her cervix. Cervical cancer is one of the ones you can beat if found early enough, so please, get your PAP and push your doctor if you suspect you are not getting the right level of care.

I encourage you to read her blog to get a little insight into just how amazing Kindra was. Even in the face of adversity, her sense of humor and total optimism are evident.

He did it!

Last year on Jan. 1, Jack peed on the potty for the first time. I remarked then that 2008 would be the Year of the Potty. And I wasn't far off, as he was daytime potty-trained by July 4. Except he wasn't pooping in the potty. He just waited until naptime and helped himself to a diaper.

Today, he didn't take a nap. I was at Target and he told Daddy that he had to pee on the potty. Josh told him to also try to poop and a minute later, he came out and told Josh, "Poop potty!" Josh didn't believe him, but went in to investigate and low and behold, he had pooped.

HOORAY! There was joy in Mudville and he got the special Diego matchbox cars we have been trying to bribe him with and we made a huge deal about it and called all the various Grandmas and Aunts and he was very proud of himself.

Now let's hope he can do it again tomorrow. I might buy stock in those little Diego cars if he does.