Mine mine mine, all mine

We pee pee on the potty...

Ah yes, potty training. I admit, I've thus far, and probably will continue to be, very laissez-faire about this whole milestone.

In a perfect world, Drew's daycare would fully potty train him for me, and I wouldn't have to do anything except cheer. I mean, sheesh, I'm paying them $500 a month. That's not too much to ask, is it?

However, what's ended up happening is that he goes in the potty perfectly at school - no mistakes at all. He even tells his teachers when he needs to go. But when he gets home, all bets are off. He won't tell us when he needs to go, and when we tell him to go, he resists. I think he's decided that going in the potty is a school-only thing.

Yesterday, for example. He's at home after school, wearing his "big-boy" underwear, and since we've been home for an hour, I figure it's time for him to go.

So I say, "Drew, do you need to go potty?"

Silence. He's playing with his Power Rangers action figures, and is much too busy to answer me.

"Drew!" I say, louder. "Let's go to the potty and go pee-pee."

"Mama," says Drew, very patiently. "Just leave me alone."

Fine. Whatever. Guess he doesn't need to go.

Except that, less than two minutes later, I hear the phrase that is dreaded by parents of preschoolers everywhere...

"Uh-oh, Mama. Uh-oh."

Yeah. You guessed it. So, I handed him a paper towel and told him to get busy.

"Mama, I not want to clean that up."

"Yeah? Well, neither do I, which is why I asked you to go in the potty. From now on, bubba, you pee on the floor, you get to clean it up."

There were many long-suffering sighs and much complaining (from both of us), but he finally gave the pool of pee a few token swipes with the towel. Hey, at least he went on the laminate flooring, and not on the rug. (I've said the same thing about my cat several times, too.)

Bye-bye crib

Yet another milestone this weekend for Drew. He spent his first night in his very own big-boy bed.

He would have been in it last weekend, had the incompetents at Simmons sent us the correct nuts and bolts for the bed rails we needed to convert his crib to a full-size bed.

But after much swearing and cursing by his dad, Drew has his bed. In an effort to help him feel empowered (and thus much more likely to go to bed at night without kicking and screaming), we let him pick out his own bedsheets and covers. I was hoping for something really cute, with perhaps a nice, subtle train or car design - something I could easily find some tasteful matching fabric for, out of which could be made curtains and lampshades and the like.

Drew, however...not so much into subtle tastefulness.

No, he went straight for the searingly bright blue and red Spiderman print sheets.

"Piderman!" he cried, exuberantly. "I want piderman for my big-boy bed!"

OK, admittedly, it's tacky, but as Charles says, it's not about me. (even though I have to look at it every day, but never mind...)

The bed, however, is comfortable in the extreme. Drew's first nap on it, yesterday, lasted almost four hours. When I sent Charles up to wake him, this is what happened instead...

I think the bed is a hit, don't you?