The “Other” Call You Never Want To Receive…

Landen has entered a phase of “I hate wearing clothes of any kind.” To some degree it’s cute, because he’s still 2 and can get away with it. To some degree it’s practical, as we are potty training and taking off clothes to get to the potty in-the-nick-of-time can be challenging (so there is more of a likelihood of success in timing if the clothes are no longer an obstacle). To some degree it’s just not great, as having a completely nude child running around can get kind of awkward, playing has an increased potential to be hazardous, and finally any potty accidents that would normally be caught by clothes/underwear/diapers could quickly result in disastrous situations. This is where the phone call you never want to receive enters the picture.

Preface, there have been two instances of urinating on the floor previous to today’s event, but they were when we first began potty training and we pretty much chalked it up to drafty air. Today, however, is well into the potty training regimen, where I feel confident in referring to Landen as being potty trained (at home).

The phone call: I’m sitting at my desk at work carrying on with my usual tasks when the phone rings. I look to see who is calling and notice it is Keith. Keith has been able to stay home for the past two weeks with the boys and really work with Landen on potty training, (He’s a wonderful husband and daddy!) so I was expecting the usual call from him once Landen woke up for Landen to say “good morning” and to tell me about the days plans. Today was different. Keith didn't sound like his usual laid back self. Landen was crying in the background. I ask Keith how things were going, and he responded with, “Well… Do you want to hear a story? It’s kind of… um… gross.” I braced myself, but made the unfortunate mistake of giving him the “go ahead.”  Keith explained that today was one of those Landen refuses clothes days, and that all of the sudden he hears Landen calling out, “I pooping, Daddy!” Normally, when Landen calls out such an announcement, it is as he is running to or sitting on the potty. Apparently, this was NOT the case today. By the time Keith made his way to Landen (I have NO IDEA what part of the house they each were in that caused the delay), Brayden had already discovered the pile. OH THE NIGHTMARE! Brayden had it on his hands. I cringed. As Keith continued with the explanation of the degree of this disaster, all I could think about (and say) was PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE TELL ME BRAYDEN DIDN'T EAT IT! Keith stopped what he was saying (I think), and very un-confidently assured me that he didn't THINK Brayden ate it because Brayden didn't have it on his face, but he wasn't certain. Oh my word! I have no clue how the remainder of the conversation ended. I have no idea what part of our house now needs to be quarantined. All I know is that Keith said he took care of it and that Brayden PROBABLY didn't eat Landen’s poop.

Yuck.

Sometimes you just gotta go... even if it's in your own driveway...

I DO thoroughly enjoy all the stages my kiddos go through as they grow, BUT sometimes the stages overlap (i.e. potty training of the oldest and utter curiosity of the youngest) and that part, well, is rather unpleasant.