Puddles and Bubbles

My boys were getting ready for the bath last night. Elijah, 5, went potty and then Ethan, 2.5 (not potty trained), saunters up to his brother and says "I go potty, too!" He stands in front of the toilet, widens his stance (genetic?), and attempts to aim. Now, the top of the toilet comes up to his belly-button, so he is essentially aiming at the floor. Which is not all that uncommon for the newly-potty-trained boy variety. Nor is it all that uncommon for veteran 30-something potty-ers of the male persuasion. I love Clorox wipes. So Ethan stands there, gives it a little shake, and, assuming this pee thing happens on demand, looks up at me and says, "It's no working. It's broken."

Today we're in the pool and Elijah squats down to push off of the step and passes gas. He says, like his mommy taught him, "Excuse me", followed by (not taught his mommy), "Did you see bubbles coming out of my bum, honey?"

Then we're getting out of the pool and Elijah is absolutely dancing with full bladder syndrome. I don't want him running through the house wet, so I tell him to go potty over in some dirt by our back slider. He hustles over there butt-naked and proceeds to do his business. When he's done, he looks over his shoulder at me and says "Did you see how big my puddle of pee is? I peed all the way to the wall, honey!"

What is it with boys/men and their bodily emissions?

Three-year-old boys, Tree Frogs, and Pee Pee

I wrote this in April of '07. This 3-year-old is now 5.

You know a fun thing about 3-year-olds? Sometimes they really really really want to wear big boy underwear. And then say they don’t have to go to the bathroom before you leave for the library. And then when you are on the sidewalk outside of the library, they stop walking and PEE right there on the sidewalk. Through their big boy underwear and their shorts and make a big puddle on the ground. And then proceed to walk through it. And then wonder why said boy and mother and little brother cannot go into the library and pick out books on tree frogs!

Imagine the ensuing fit on the way back to the car:

Dripping wet pee pee boy: But, honey [said boy calls his mother honey; another subject for another day] I want books about tree frogs.

Frustrated mother: Honey, we have to go home and get you changed.

DWPPB: I want books about tree frogs.

More frustrated mother: You are soaking wet and need dry clothes.

DWPPB: [crying, now] I don’t need dry clothes. Don’t hold my hand. I want books about tree frogs.

Three-year-olds are nothing if not determined and persistent. They often have no idea about anything happening around them, including soaking wet pee pee clothes and pee pee footprints being left behind them, if they are on the trail of something much more exciting, like tree frogs and the various books that have been written about them. They also do not understand why Diego sandals must be washed after traipsing through pee pee puddles. Or why little boys have to be washed after having soaking wet pee pee clothes stuck to them all the way home from the library we never actually entered. Febreze, while miraculous, only works on the car seat cover so that it does not have to be dismantled by the nearest mechanical engineer in order to be washed for the second time in a week (oh, this same 3-year-old had a poopy blow-out in the car seat just 3 days ago). They have not yet invented “Little Boy Antibacterial Febreze”. Believe me, when they do, I will be the first in line.

Pacifiers and Oxygen

My two-and-a-half year-old loves his pacifer. I mean LOVES his pacifier. If a scientist did some sort of analysis of his pacifiers, I would not be surprised to learn that his are made out of pure oxygen. Necessary for life. He falls asleep with one in his mouth and one in each hand. And if I put him down and forget the ones he holds: "More paci, please." Recently, he got very interested in playing with a truck and set his paci down on the table. Since my hubby and I are weakly trying to break Ethan of this pacifier habit, I thought I could get over there all stealth and steal that pacifier away. I actually managed to get the pacifier and put it in his room. He didn't even notice he didn't have his pacifier until about a half an hour later (this is AMAZING, by the way). He came up to me and said, "More paci more paci more paci" - just like that - no punctuation.

Do we ever do that with God? Get more interested in something else and set Him down somewhere? Forget that He's our source of oxygen? I know I do. I'll read or work out or talk on the phone or work or wash dishes or any number of distracting things. Not anything wrong with any of those activities, except that I've left Him out. Skipped my quiet time. Forgotten to pray before I start my day. And then at some point, I realize I've set Him down somewhere. And I run to my Bible or hit my knees and say "More, God. More, God. More, God." And, thankfully, He's only as far away as the words on my lips.