Andy is doing great with the potty training right now. I can't get him to wear his new underwear. He insists on wearing a pull-up or a diaper, but he is telling me when he has to go and then goes. It's going to take some adjustment on my part to be able to jump when he says he has to go. Like yesterday at Target, we had sat down to a fine meal of chicken tenders and nachos from the $2 menu when he announced he had to pee. I had to quickly put lunch in a bag and rush to the toilet. We ended up eating lunch out of the bag later as we shopped. Fortunately, it was just the two of us. If Meg were with us, it would have been a bigger challenge to quickly get moving.
This all brings me to the subject of public restrooms. I'm not a germaphobe by any stretch and I'm not afraid of public toilets. With a bladder as small as mine and my affection for wine, public restrooms are something I got used to a lot time ago. But I just sit on the seat. Andy, meanwhile, has to lean his little legs up against the toilet and sometimes rests his penis on the toilet bowl because he's not quite tall enough. I always make a point to wipe him down afterwards, but still, ick. And last week at Chipotle, there was a line for the Ladies room so I had to go in the Mens (and is it Ladies' and Mens'? I need to look that up). Anyway, we went in the Mens' room which was just disgusting to begin with and having to touch the nasty toilet seat with my hands to get him ready, well, ick. Sure, I washed down afterwards, but it was still gross.
In the last few months, Andy has gone to an every other day bath schedule, but with Meg spitting up on herself all the time, I've taken to giving her a bath every day to wash the smudge off her hair and neck. I think he's going to need one daily, too, until he's at least tall enough to not molest the toilet when he pees.