I've been at this for just over four years. I've got it down pat. I mean, I've dealt with strange noises and volatile clothing. I even developed a fool-proof system for rating dipeys. I am an expert diaperer. As is Marissa. Or so we thought. Today brought several...challenges...that made us want to start over from square one.
We were warned about one event by a certain baby wrangler. She had experienced it with her own son and called it "Craptacular" (that's a portmanteau of crap, spectacle, and ar, as in a frustrating "AAARRRRR!"). It's an appropriate word. Maybe that's enough explanation. No? Well, okay. You asked for it.
Marissa and I had just finished our supper when Aidan announced, "He pooped! He pooped!!" We would have preferred him to notice his own bowel movement, but instead, he'd noticed Peyson's. And Peyson hadn't just filled his diaper; he'd filled it and removed it. Still in shock, Marissa grabbed the boy's dirty hands; I darted down the hall for wipeys. We quickly wiped him down and then whisked him to the bathroom for an early (and thorough) cleansing. That event would be worth blogging about all by itself, but it just happened to follow on the heels of another.
Aidan has been against the concept of self-involved deposition of personal wastes from the very beginning. We've tried stickers. We've tried high-fives and potty dances (I should get a video). We've tried waiting. And now, we're trying the bottomless approach. Yep, when we're not out and about, Aidan is naked from the waist down. The thought was he was too comfortable in a diaper to know when he's "going," so we'll help him feel what it's like.
Until today, we've had no incidents. However, there's a first time for everything. Aidan had a few accidents and got really, really upset. He was so agitated that he founded and became the first member of the Potty-Training Underground Resistance movement. PTUR's first act of rebellion was a screaming fit. Demands for a diaper were issued at increasing volume levels. We didn't give in. However, the second insurrection was much more subtle and altogether genius in its execution. Aidan stealthily slipped into his room and expertly strapped a diaper to himself. He returned to the living room sporting a huge smile and a puffed up chest. Defiant. Proud. And for the moment, victorious.
Marissa and I may have been surprised (twice!) today, but we're more than able and more than determined to see both our boys all the way to successful flushing. And then we'll move on to hand-washing. And dishes. And laundry...