Oh, the proud moment of any mother–when your son finally learns to pee in the grass! And frankly, I’m thankful! It’s taken a long time to potty train that boy, but I can finally say that (knock on wood) we’ve made it. I still let him have a pull-up on at night, just because he’s kind of crabby in the morning and he doesn’t like hearing “go and use the potty” as the first thing in the morning. Yes, he has a few accidents (mostly when we are out and totally unprepared!), but he’s doing well, stubborn little cuss that he is.
Today I took the kids to the children’s garden at Thanksgiving point. They have a wonderful Noah’s Ark fountain where the kids can splash and play to their heart’s content. They all had a great time, and it was all very laid back and casual. I sat in the shade and tried to read my book. But I ended up taking pictures, handing out snacks and drinks, and protecting myself from Megan, who was more interested in the MUD than the water (yes, she’s 12). I even handed out some band-aids that I had in my pocket for a poor little girl who took quite a spill. I guess that’s why you aren’t supposed to climb on those rocks. She got a big scrape on her hip, and her mom was grateful when I walked up with three band-aids all ready for her owie.
When it was time to go, I asked the kids if any of them needed to go to the bathroom. Of course, they all said no. Because no one wants to waste one second of their valuable playing time in the bathroom. Besides, peeling off those wet swimsuits is never fun, right? Well, we get everyone to the car and they are all sitting on their towels like I asked them to do and buckled up. Everyone except John, who is taking his shoes off in the parking lot. Come on, kid! As soon as I get him near the car, he starts doing the “I’ve got to go to the bathroom dance.”
“Mom, I’ve got to go potty!!” he says in a frantic voice. I can tell there’s no WAY he’s going to make it across the parking lot and back to the garden and into the bathroom, so I say, “Great! You are so lucky you are a boy, because I’m going to show you how to pee on the grass!” He seems interested, which is a good sign. I walk him over to the grass, pull his pants down the tiniest bit and show him how to stick out his little thing and pee on the grass. He was still a little bit worried about it, but when I told him to go ahead, it was ok, he let his stream loose. “See, you’re just like a fountain!” I said. He laughed at that. I then told him how only boys can pee outside, and you only pee on the grass if you aren’t near a bathroom. NEVER at friend’s houses. When we got back to the car, he excitedly told his sisters: “I peed on the grass!” He was so proud.
It’s a great, great day when you can finally teach your son to pee on the grass and he doesn’t have a screaming fit about it. It means that we might have finally accomplished “the potty training” with this, our last, most stubborn child. (Where was that wood that I was going to knock on? I’m going to need it.)