While some bloggers are taking this time to look to the next year and predict what it might hold for them in terms of personal success, like my bloggy friend The Feminist Breeder (check her out on TLC soon, and no she’s not a little person), I am thinking of the next year only in terms of poop, pee, potties… potty training. Yes, I am hoping that 2010 is the year of the potty trained toddler in this house.

All signs are really pointing to potty training, I believe, starting with the trail of turds left on our living room floor “Christmas” morning at home (which was really Jan. 1st due to all our crazy holiday travel). Turns out he was so excited by all his presents that he crapped his pants, then, while out of view, decided he didn’t like the feeling of crap IN his pants and undid his diaper from inside his cute Christmas jammies. I noticed he was starting to stink so I called a present opening timeout and went to change him. As I removed his fleece bottoms, turdlets flew from them and across his room.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing none of them fell out in here,” I said as I brought him back to the living room.

“Uh… I think I see one… Yup, that is definitely poop,” Scott replied and he reached down to retrieve it with a piece of crumpled wrapping paper.

I immediately looked down and directly to my right was another one… to my left, another.

“Ewwwww!! Oh my God! DON’T MOVE. There might be more,” I said, and we all (including my dad and his wife) began searching through the litter on the floor to make sure we retrieved them all.

Later that day we drove to San Antonio for my brother’s wedding and checked into a hotel. Kendall crept to a corner of the room behind the bed and made lots of hilarious farts and funny faces. Yeah, I knew what he was doing, but I wasn’t going to interject and try to put him on the potty. I was too tired.  Seconds later he retrieves the bag of diapers and the wipes and lays them in front of me on the floor. Oh, so I see we are REALLY not liking the poop in the pants feeling, eh? This is a sign, no? A sign he’s “ready”? I think so.

We’ve tried sitting him on the little Baby Bjorn potty chair countless times. He’s never produced anything for us, though. However, he *has* learned that we will blow bubbles for him while he sits there in an effort to keep him there as long as possible, in hopes that something will eek it’s way out. He now has a really convincing act in which he sort of corrals us and runs to the bathroom door, making lots of desperate noises that cause us, in turn, to act like complete fools, shouting things like “Ooh! You have to go POTTY??!! Yay! LET’S GO POTTY! Let’s poo poo like a BIG boy in the POTTY!” He settles down on the chair, smiles and plain as day says, “Bubble?”

Scott even tries to get him into the spirit by showing him what a “poop face” looks like and grunting for him. His efforts are noble and hilarious at the same time, although I did tell him in the hotel that he was singlehandedly going to make potty training Kendall 10 times harder after this exchange:

Me:  ”Ooh, I think Kendall has a dirty diaper. That stinks! Kendall, did you go poopy?”

Kendall: “No”

Scott: “Uhh.. no, that was me. Sorry.”

::a few minutes pass::

Me: “Damn, Scott. Did you fart again?”

Scott: “No. I swear.”

:: a diaper inspection proves this time Kendall is the culprit::

Me: “What the HELL? You two have the same foul smell coming from your ass. Is that genetic?”

This morning we pretty much had a repeat of “Christmas” morning. Kendall pooped, reached into his pants and undid his diaper, ran amok in the living room and dropped a turd right by the couch. It was a pretty raunchy diaper and I could see  more of it threatening to ooze out of his pants so I was faced with the dilemma of cleaning up the poop on the floor then or cleaning it up after I cleaned Kendall up. I foolishly opted to clean Kendall first. The dogs took care of the turd while I was gone. This was not the first time they’ve gone after such delicacies, but, to my knowledge, it IS the first time they succeeded in their quest.

Inspired by my best friend whose little boy is merely 6 weeks older than Kendall and already wearing “big boy undies” for most of the day with no accidents, I took Kendall to Target today and purchased his first package of briefs “just like daddy’s!”, except these have Elmo on them. I briefly wondered why they didn’t make grown men underwear with matching characters on them, thinking maybe that would make potty training even more “fun” for all involved. Then I realized how wrong that picture really was… on so many levels.

So we’ve got the “big boy undies”, the little potty, we’ve even got the Elmo Potty book (a fantabulous Christmas gift from the grandparents).  I *think* we even have a little bit of “interest” in the whole ordeal, or at least interest in not having shit stuck to his ass. I know it may seem early to some, but I’m going to run with it for now. January is a dreadful month anyway, and we’ll most like be stuck inside most of the time. Might as well take advantage, right? My friend has invited me to go through hell week with her as she employs what she calls the “naked bootie” method with her son. I’m game. I’m also open to any other suggestions you marvelous readers of mine might have. So spill it.

Kendall is 20 months old