After two or three days of missing out on successfully using his potty, Andy did manage to pee in the potty tonight. I asked if he wanted to go (his diaper from school was mostly dry at about 8 p.m.) and he said yes. He sat down and immediately said, "I hear it. I hear it coming," which must mean that he feels it inside. And viola, he peed in the potty. Bjorn promptly came upstairs with a cookie and we both said how proud of him we were. He was so proud of himself, though, that afterwards he really didn't want to get off the potty and dressed, even though it was clearly bedtime.
In other news, I now use the word "potty" in my daily conversation, whether it's Andy using it or when I have to explain to him where his father or brother are (he asks a lot of the same questions over and over again so naturally, I get to say, "He's in the potty" again and again). I haven't yet said that at work, but it's bound to happen. And it scares me.
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