July 07, 2014

This Post Has Not Yet Been Rated

The following are random things I don't want to forget, but they may be a little.... erm.... vivid for some readers.  Especially non-parents.  Just consider this fair warning.

So we've lived in Tanzania, East Africa for the past year and our son refused to pee in the bush.
Even on an 8 hour drive to the coast when his little friend did it, he refused.  But we go hiking in the Grand Canyon and what-do-ya-know he decides he can pee AND poop on one of the great wonders of the natural world, in a National Park.
Don't worry, we buried it.

So proud of my little boy for learning to release himself in nature.  But equally proud of him for now knowing how to pull his chupis  (choo-pees - swahili for underwear) up and his shorts up after using the toilet.  He can even put them on if they've fallen off his little feet dangling from the porcelain throne because we've taught him to lay them on the floor with the tag on the bottom before he puts his feet in.  Soon the days of "Momma/Papa I'm dooonnneeee" echoing through the hallways of our home will be but a memory.

Speaking of asking for help on the toilet, he's recently decided he can wipe himself too.  Walked in the other day to see him sitting on the floor putting his chupis back on and saw the wipes container open.  "Did you poop?" I ask.
"Yep.  I wiped myself!" he replied beaming with pride.
"Wow!  Great job buddy!  Where'd you put the wipe?" (making sure he didn't flush it since we still use baby wipes)
"In the trash. I used two wipes because I had two poops," he says non-chalantly.  Allllrighty then.
"Can you stand up so I can make sure you got it all?"
"Sure," he says.
When he stands up I see he did, indeed, wipe himself.... as evidenced by the streak across his little hiney... and the small brown chunk that dropped from it as he stood up.
Good thing he was on the tile.
Note to self: keep working on this one.

Also not to be forgotten is that one time, whilst on a long road trip through the desert (before his discovery of being able to release himself in the bush), when we got pulled over by a state trooper.
We're buzzing along the highway in the middle of no where - quite literally - when from the backseat, "Momma, I gotta go potty, my tummy huuurrrtts."
Great.  So I pull off the nearest exit, which has the little blue gas station and restaurant insignia's on it, declaring there will be somewhere he can relieve himself near the exit.  I pull of the ramp, roll slowly through the stop sign at the end of the ramp in this one horse... nope, half-a-horse-town, and what to my wondering eyes do appear- but some shiny red and blue lights flashing in my rear.  UGH.  You've GOT to be kidding me.  I know I wasn't speeding because I was too busy searching for a restaurant and/or gas station completely befuddled by the sign at the intersection that had an arrow like this:   <----->  saying they could be found in either direction when clearly nothing could be found in either direction but a few trailers and houses with broken fences.  
I slow to a stop and roll down my window, watching the state trooper climb out of his SUV and saunter up to the window.
He asks the question they all ask, "Do you know why I pulled you over ma'am?"
"No, I don't, actually, " I reply.
"Well, you didn't really stop at that stop sign back there."
"Oh really?  I'm sorry, I'm just looking for a place for my son to use the potty before he goes in the car." {What?! Did I really just say 'potty' to an officer of the law! Sheesh.}
"Oh, well there's nothing around here for miles."
"Seriously?!  The sign on the highway said there was a gas station off this exit."
"Nope, nothing for miles in any direction.  Follow me I'll take you back to the station and he can go there."
Seriously.  Life saver.  He hangs a u-turn and I follow him, O goes in and does his business and we head back to the car.
"I'll need your license for the record since I pulled you over," he says.
"Oh sure," I hand it to him.
"North Carolina? Are you in the military?" he asks.
"No," I say, equally surprised.
"Oh, well with Arizona plates and a North Carolina license [driving in California]..."
"Oh, no it's my mom's car, we're just visiting.  Thanks so much for understanding and for letting him use the restroom here!"
Wow.  That is one story I will never forget.