I so wish I was talking about the bear

Poo, not Pooh.

There. I said it.

A result of popular demand (yes, can you imagine I have had people say I should blog about this?) I'm am writing about Child-Unit 4's toilet training successes and failures. And, no, there won't be any pictures to go along with this story (only because they came out too blurry to post).

So, from this point on be warned. This is not a cutsie post about fluffy kittens and puppies. You probably want that anyway, then the stories that follow. Back track and click the link now, unless of course, you're a Mom, a former Mom, or a maybe a recovering Mom that needs to get over a baby sniffing addiction! ;-)

Toilet training the last of the family lineage has been, um, a treat. I'm told these stories I will be able to look back on and laugh off in a few years.

I don't think I can wait that long.

Toilet training, in earnest, started December 26.

After CU-4 received training underpants for Christmas (he was VERY excited Christmas morning when he opened the box, pulled them out and started jumping up and down saying "Bunny! Bunny! Bunny!") we warned him his diapering days were almost over.

Hour upon hour we trotted him back and forth to the toilet. For the most part, mostly misses. Occasionally he'd tease us, or our timing would be good enough and he'd relax and dribble into the toilet. Yeh! One for us. But those stories don't make for an interesting read. Oh no. I'm about to tell you three true stories:

#1 - the near miss
CU-4 was put on the toilet and The Huz got distracted, mumbled something to me about "boy" and "toilet" as he passed. I didn't think much of it until CU-3 started howling for me to come and see what CU-4 did. And there it was in all it's glory. About three feet from where it's final resting place should have been. That's when I got the camera out and throughly lost my "good parenting" points.

#2 - making the rounds
Since construction of the new part of the house last year, we've been re-blessed with having an extra two commodes added to our formerly humble abode. We'd started the training in the powder room (also know as A----a's bathroom - named after a former neighbour-child who used the facilities at g-r-e-a-t length). However, because of a hockey play-off with Canada and the Russians, CU-4 and his equipment was moved to the en suite, which was closer to the front room and the TV. It was at this location that the second story takes place.

While folding laundry, CU-4 was playing nicely with others, and occasionally amusing himself, though generally staying out of trouble until I see him skip past me for the third time.

After the first two times it didn't really click in that he'd been coming out of my bedroom, on the back loop, empty handed. (On my behalf I'll say I've been very under the weather during the holiday season.) The second pass I *think* he had a wooden toy figurine of a giraffe. The third pass through was with a Duplo block square. (I'd missed the original foray, it turns out. THAT was a piece of train track.) My gut suspicions were triggered. I'd followed him into the bathroom, yelling for support just in case I had to have a confrontation or an intervention.

Sigh. I caught him just after he'd flushed.

Oh, I probably shouldn't mention that earlier that day The Huz had caught him, em, testing the waters in that facility for potability. Ew ew ew ew ew. (Grandma Tim tells me that most children have done this at one time or another. Still, ew.)

#3 - the sink incident
The Huz is doing his regular rounds putting the CUs to bed. I get the bellow to hurry and hurry hard (I love curling terms, they're so cute!) The Huz was upset because it looked like CU-4 had done something to clog the toilet and it had backed-up into the sink.

Upon closer investigation, The Huz concluded that CU-4 had taken a sample and decided to wash his hands of it in the sink. (Update: Upon further reflection, The Huz believes that it may have just been a soil sample taken from one of the resident bathroom cacti, though the jury is still out on that one.)

#4 - the bonus story
First day back on our regular schedule, the CU fairs ok, not leaving anything behind when trying out his care giver's toilet, and sliding things in on the sly, during nap time. She instructs me to put him right on the toilet when we get home, which I do. Too late. The cold weather has already triggered a response. Ok, so we start again.

Every hour CU-4 is coaxed to park. Nothing as far as I can tell.

During the last park-and-ride, I'm trying to multitask and verify I've got sufficient ingredients to run a batch of cookies through when I hear the scream of the howler monkey. The last time CU-4 had reacted this way, I found him with one foot in the toilet bowl, and on point, kind of like a ballerina warming up at the bar. (Apparently he was trying to get off.) No such luck this time. For either of us.

No, this time he'd took care of business and all the formalities. He'd peed on his business twice. TWICE!

Cripes. Now how do I end a blog entry like this eh? Perhaps with a grateful sigh that we're done for today and with a big thank you to small gods that I got into a Mr. Clean 2-for-1 sale!