Choo Choo… Little Man joined the Potty Train (sigh)

I mentioned last week that The Hubby has been working hard on our old house for a while, sprucing that baby up getting it ready to sell.

While he’s been away, I’ve been home with the kiddos. And at about day 6, right before bath, Cal says he has to go potty, walks over to it and goes.

Gwyn and I picked up our jaws from the ground and then praised and praised the little man.

And he was happy.

But I finished the night as normal and the next day I decided to take his diaper off and see what happened. And unexpectedly, he went in his potty every. single. time.

As much as I wasn’t ready for it… As much as I doubted what I thought to be true, the kid was ready to be potty trained.

So the next morning we decided it was time to get him some big boy panties. Undies. Undies! Boys wear undies. not panties.

See! I am not ready for this.

As I was getting ready that morning, alone, I started crying.

Crying because my “baby” is growing up. My potentially last baby is growing up. And he decided HIMself that he was going to take this leap into big-boyhood.

I didn’t plan it. I didn’t prepare for it. I didn’t mentally prepare for it. So as he continues to grow and mature, I can’t help but think maybe this is the LAST time I am going to experience these “baby firsts.”

It sounds silly that I want to “hold on” to the memory of the first time he pooped in the potty, but it’s potentially the last “first” poop.

Yeah, it’s silly.

And I am talking about poop.

You want to know where Cal pooped earlier that day, before inside the potty?

In his sister’s bed.

He pooped IN her bed.

And I found the log, thankfully. Though I did run away from it. I’m just glad his sister didn’t see.

You think he was trying to send her a message? Revenge?!

Anyway, we are doing well with it over here. We haven’t had an accident of any sort in a while and his little tush resides in Spiderman undies.