Sunday afternoon we went to the store and Jude pondered carefully with one finger lightly tapping his lips before he selected a pack of character underwear and a poisonously awful plastic Lightning McQueen potty-seat. He carried it through the store held aloft like a glorious trophy of manhood proclaiming loudly to all onlookers, "LOOK! LOOK AT MY TOILET SEAT! I WILL NOT FALL, INTO THE TOILET."
We rounded a corner and almost collided with a woman and her husband pushing identically floppy babies in a dual stroller and Jude assaulted them aggressively with his virulent enthusiasm. "LADY. I AM A BIG BOY. THIS IS MY TOILET. LOOK. LOOK AT IT. LOOOOOK."
I hadn't planned on starting right away but he insisted on stripping down and testing his new gear out immediately upon our return home. I said 'sure' because what are you going to say? "No, no you can't use the toilet today. You have to wait until tomorrow because I love touching your pee with my hands so very much?" No. No one would say that, but once you start there's no turning back.
Now here we are, smack in the middle of day three. There have been some kick ass times and a few bad moments. From the internet buzz I expected the earth to poof! go boom in a hellacious explosion of alcoholic parenting misery as soon as I uttered the dreaded words "potty training." It really hasn't been like that. It's only been slightly annoying like a branch scraping against your leg every other step or two, but that happens when you're hiking in the woods so get over it.
Tiny underwears, oh for fucks sake that's adorable.
Many of my friends loathe the potty training process with every fiber of their beings and they'll want to stab me for this, but I don't think it's a big deal to wipe up some pee and say, "It's okay man, try again next time." I'm hoping the combination of my attitude and his are what's moving things along at a decent clip. I'm taking the uneventfulness as a good sign that we waited until he was ready, not just physically but also in comprehension and listening skills. Uneventful is about as well as anything potentially involving explosive poop can go.
Updates from the field forthcoming.