We do still have the night time training. I couldn't pass up this doozy so here I am for your entertainment, and my catharsis. We chose to wait on the night time training until, well, I (we) golly darn felt like addressing it. Golly. Darn. It. So we're in the thick of it now. Which means we're doing our best to limit liquids before sleep and we wake him up twice a night to pee. The book we're following is very optimistic (my paraphrase - "He'll be so groggy you'll be able to sit him on the potty half asleep so he can do his business and the whole ordeal will be done in 2 minutes."). NOT SO, LADY! NOT SO. This is the bud, EVER HEARD OF HIM? He is aware, and opinionated, and loves his sleep. He does not like to be woken up under any circumstances. And you think he'll be so groggy that he won't notice being put on the potty? Are you drunk? No, no. This kid starts negotiating the moment he senses me leaning down to scoop him up. "No, no, my bladder is empty! Bladder says he's empty!" To his credit, this is sometimes true, because it was emptied into his jammies and sheets. Also, we refer to his bladder as "Bladder" as if the bladder has a name. Naturally, we talk to Bladder and check in with him frequently.
One night recently I was on duty for a night time potty stop and I found Emmett snoozing peacefully in dry jammies. Silent fist pump, CHYA! I quietly scooped him up and he didn't complain. Another win! He nuzzled his head into my neck and I reiterated our usual plan with a whisper into his ear. "We’re taking Bladder to the potty. I'll help you with your jammies and undies if you want, and then you'll sit on the potty and hold your penis down so that Bladder can put the pee in the potty."
I should mention that Emmett has learned to make sure the penis is pointing downward while he sits on the potty so the pee ends up IN the potty and not NEAR the potty. This has been a crucial step for us, and also seemingly an indicator for Emmett's brain to release the pee.
Now moving right along in the story -
So we were in the bathroom. Emmett was seated on the potty and he started to protest. I was sitting on the edge of the tub in front of him. His first argument - "No, there isn't any pee! Bladder doesn't have to go!" I rebutted (pun!) with a convincing argument to hold his penis down - I was certain pee would come out if he indicated!
Sidebar: it's super weird talking to a person about the logistics of holding their peter. I think it's especially weird because I don't have one. End sidebar.
We were going back and forth a bit. Neeearly there. And then. I noticed the shocked look on his face a split second before the pee hit my shirt. A strong, steady stream hit me squarely in the chest. Time stopped for a second and I took a mental picture of us, Norman Rockwell style, sitting in the bathroom together, eye to eye, with the bud's pee attacking me like an arrow. A quaint little scene. Back in reality, here we are in the bathroom in the middle of the night with a stream of pee connecting us. His face: shock, horror, embarrassment. My face: calm, cool, collected. My brain: WTF, is this for real right now. Like REALLY real. Did I just use my best-available creative adult brain functions to get this dude to point his penis down into the potty and in turn I am getting pissed on?
I impressed myself with my quick action of cupping my hand over the crotch area to deflect the stream. Clearly, Bladder doesn't know who he's messing with. Your pee doesn't scare me, BLADDER.
The bud was rather concerned and cried a bit and I reassured him that everything was fine and we're okay. We got cleaned up and situated him back into bed. Another learning checkpoint for us both was now behind us.
I put myself back to bed and wondered if I might be able to commission that Norman Rockwell-style piece for the bud's 21st birthday.
So we were in the bathroom. Emmett was seated on the potty and he started to protest. I was sitting on the edge of the tub in front of him. His first argument - "No, there isn't any pee! Bladder doesn't have to go!" I rebutted (pun!) with a convincing argument to hold his penis down - I was certain pee would come out if he indicated!
Sidebar: it's super weird talking to a person about the logistics of holding their peter. I think it's especially weird because I don't have one. End sidebar.
We were going back and forth a bit. Neeearly there. And then. I noticed the shocked look on his face a split second before the pee hit my shirt. A strong, steady stream hit me squarely in the chest. Time stopped for a second and I took a mental picture of us, Norman Rockwell style, sitting in the bathroom together, eye to eye, with the bud's pee attacking me like an arrow. A quaint little scene. Back in reality, here we are in the bathroom in the middle of the night with a stream of pee connecting us. His face: shock, horror, embarrassment. My face: calm, cool, collected. My brain: WTF, is this for real right now. Like REALLY real. Did I just use my best-available creative adult brain functions to get this dude to point his penis down into the potty and in turn I am getting pissed on?
I impressed myself with my quick action of cupping my hand over the crotch area to deflect the stream. Clearly, Bladder doesn't know who he's messing with. Your pee doesn't scare me, BLADDER.
The bud was rather concerned and cried a bit and I reassured him that everything was fine and we're okay. We got cleaned up and situated him back into bed. Another learning checkpoint for us both was now behind us.
I put myself back to bed and wondered if I might be able to commission that Norman Rockwell-style piece for the bud's 21st birthday.
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