Let's Count Them!

Potty training Hooper has been one of the most difficult things I've ever attempted to do. Hooper quickly got the peeing part of it down but continued to struggle with the pooping part. Together my husband and I tried every method under the sun. We bribed him to poop on the potty. We tried to guilt him to poop in the potty. I'm sorry to say we even resorted to punishment. In our defense, Hooper was content with pooping everywhere BUT the potty. Underwear, floors, nothing was sacred to this boy. As all the experts said he would, one day it just clicked with him. It was ALL his idea and it didn't take long before he was pooping like a champ.

One of the first days he decided to poop in the potty I was home with him for Christmas break. Hooper asked to go poop early that morning and I thought, "Wonderful! Check that off my to do list!" An hour later he asked to go again and still I thought, "Look how good he's doing. Maybe shouldn't put quite so much fiber in his diet." Then not thirty minutes later I hear those words again, "Mom! I gotta go poop!" So once again we march in the bathroom and prepare to use the potty. I leave Hooper (the child likes his privacy) and when I check on him again he's done and staring into the potty.

I asked Hooper, "Are you done?"

He replies, "Yes! Look at all the poops! Let's count them! One, two, three, four, five, six!

I have never had such a mixture of pride and revulsion in all my life. The thought of standing over a used toilet and analyzing feces was somewhat gross to me. But pride is often the downfall of any parent and I was proud that my son had finally conquered potty training. And darn it, I was proud that he could count his poops.

Monster Baby

As I go travel down the road of mother-hood I have noticed that I can do a lot of things I never thought I could. For instance, I never thought I would be able to entertain two young boys at the same time...until I invented "Monster Baby". While waiting at the doctor's office one day I held Boston up and chased Hooper around the small exam room saying, "Monster Baby! He's gonna get you!" Hooper of course screamed and laughed. Over the next few weeks I often did that to him while we were waiting somewhere or needed a little entertainment.

This particular day I was picking up the boys from Linda. Let me just say here and now that Linda is the boys "daycare provider". However, I do not feel comfortable calling her their "daycare provider" because she is so much more than that. She is the sweetest woman who I know loves and cares for my boys. I feel as comfortable leaving the boys with her as with their own grandmothers, but I digress. This day while picking up the boys I performed the "Monster Baby" trick, expecting a short laugh from Hooper and a smile from Boston. But instead I got from Hooper,

"Ahhh, Monster Baby! He's so fat, he eat me!"

Shiloah and I obviously needed to broaden our vocabulary and use words such as chubby, full or healthy. Fat, just wasn't working anymore.

The Cute Spot

All of Hooper's life I have pinched his little cheeks and said, "Chubby cheeks, chubby cheeks." They are so cute and probably my favorite feature of his face. A couple of days ago, Boston was in his little bouncy chair, Hooper and I were playing on the floor. Boston began to ooh and goo at us, trying to get our attention. I said,"Hooper, look! Brother is trying to get our attention." Hooper bent over Boston, pinched his cheeks and said, "Chubby cheeks, chubby cheeks." It was so obvious that it was a gesture of love and one of the sweetest things I've ever seen. I wondered why we pinch the cheeks when someone is so cute you can't stand it, but we do. The cheeks are our designated cute spot. What made it sweeter was Boston smiling back at his big brother.

I've heard stories from Shiloah about him and his brother as teenagers. They would steal each others clothes. Punch holes in walls instead of punching faces. Yell, scream, the whole bit. I'm wondering when Bo and Hooper are teenagers if they will remember their cute spots and pinch each other's cheeks. Probably not, but I will remind them of the moment when Hooper found Boston's chubby cheeks and Boston looked lovingly at his big brother as if he had hung the moon. Think it will work? Nah...me either.

Eating Piles of Dirt

In order to teach Hooper to eat what is given to him at dinner, Shiloah and I had imposed a policy of no desert unless dinner is eaten. Sometimes Hooper eats and other times he goes about his business. This night was one of those nights when Hooper chose to eat very little on his plate and then called it a day despite warning of no desert.

Later that evening Shiloah and I were enjoying a brownie and ice cream. Hooper came into the living room and saw the bowl of delicious goodness. He asked me, "What's that?" In a vain attempt of diverting his interest in my desert, I told him the brownie was dirt. He looked long and hard at that brownie, then back at me again.

"I want dirt."

Hooper had a big fat brownie that night.