Yup, that's right. Poo.
Lately Little Man has started recognizing that he poops. I know, everybody poops, but Little Man is not yet 1 1/2. I didn't know kids could start recognizing it that early. It's probably my fault. Since he was born, every time he would stop and stare, and then do a little shake, as though he had the chills, I knew that Papa would have a present just waiting for him. Recently, I started asking him, "Are you poopin'?" when he did it, and apparently, he caught on.
J and I thought that this could only be a good thing. Long gone are the days of dainty little newborn poops that barely smelled. Nope. Now apparently my child has the bowels of a 40 year old man. Getting him to potty train sooner is definitely better than later in our book.
We decided to capitalize on Little Man's new discovery by showing him how to put the "poo-poo" in the "potty." Basically, this consists of us dumping the contents of his diaper into the toilet. He loves it. He loves that it disappears when you flush. He loves that he gets to wash his hands in the sink afterward. Poo-poo in the potty is a good time.
Maybe too much of a good time.
Now, I think he mostly wants the potty to do its magic. Even without producing a poop of any kind, he will take my hand, drag me into the bathroom, and demand that the "poo" go into the "pah." I dutifully take off his diaper to show them that there's nothing there, but that doesn't appease him. He wants me to throw the whole thing in. What a plumbing nitemare that would be-- ultra-absorbent baby diaper clogs local sewer system. I can see the headlines now.
So apparently, I 'm in that part of parenthood. The part where you start saying things like "did you put the poo-poo in the potty?" and then blogging about it later.