Andy pooped on the toilet TWICE today. (God, when did my life get to the point where this is the most interesting thing happening?) He went this morning before I took him to his pediatric ENT appointment to check that his ear tubes are in and doing what they're supposed to. As a reward, I promised him ice cream after our appointment. The deli in the medical building sold cold treats and I let him pick one out, a very large, phallic green Popsicle. He was psyched. He started to eat it when I realized that today was picture day at school so I made him take off his shirt to eat the Popsicle. What a lovely redneck mother I was today sitting with my shirtless kid in the parking lot of an office building while he ate a Popsicle.
After school, he came home and I immediately stripped him down to just a shirt. He played and played, occasionally saying he had to poop, trying briefly, then going back to playing. I was impressed that he could feel it enough and kept trying to go. I was upstairs getting Meg's bath ready when I got the call.
"Mommy, I made poops! Come look!"
"Yeah, Andy! Good for you. That's great."
"Come look. They're green."
"Why, yes, they are green. Just like your Popsicle earlier."
"Yeah! That's great!"
And then I proceeded to give him another green Popsicle.
And not to be out shined by her brother, darling Meg slept from 9:30 p.m. to 6:30 a.m. Of course, when I woke up and realized neither of us had been up, I panicked, worrying that because of her cold, she had somehow stopped breathing in the night. Rather than rush in and definitely wake her up, I turned up the baby monitor all the way and waited a few seconds for a good deep breath. Phew.