Saturday, July 27, 2013

The Streaker


{Half-naked, covered in ketchup, or sitting amid a pile of destruction, those brown eyes do me in every time. It's my weakness, I tell ya.}


On a recent morning when Owen woke up before me (read: every morning), he walked into my room. Shortly after, I heard an odd ripping sensation.

I pretended to be asleep as he stood by my bed and muttered a few things I didn't catch. He quickly became uninterested in his snoozing mama and walked out of the room. Just before he made it to the door, though, I heard him confidently proclaim: "I done with diaper!" I opened my eyes just in time to see a round little heinie pass through my doorway.

Oh no.

A few days later, Nathan, Owen and I were watching a little afternoon TV. It's rare that they're both still on the couch at the same time, so I made every second count and closed my eyes for approximately three seconds. I promptly opened them at the sound of Nathan's uncontrollable giggles and saw Owen pull his shirt over his head.

(Moral of the Story: I shouldn't close my eyes.)

With a wide smile on his face, that little guy sat back and continued to watch his show, patting his belly along with the Ninja Turtle theme song and the 10 minutes that followed because Nathan thought it was hilarious.


We've got a streaker, y'all. Thank goodness the only offense that has been repeated is the shirt and not the diaper; however, he did pitch a royal fit during a change the other day that led to asking him whether he wanted to wear diapers or undies.

"I wear undies!"

Well, okay then. You haven't heard anything from me regarding potty training my middle child and there's a good reason for that. I haven't started.

And yet, I obliged. Mostly because it was adorable:


I don't think Owen is quite ready for that adventure and this brief foray with... well, briefs proved just that. He happily sat and played in his hand-me-down Bert and Ernies until something felt weird. He jumped up and we had to act fast. We rushed him to the bathroom, where he refused to sit on the toilet, peed all over the floor, and asked for more undies. We did this again with a Toy Story pair and finally talked him into a diaper.

I suppose that's Step One? Who knows. All I know is since the addition of a baby sister, I change 845 diapers a day and my Diaper Genie fills with record speed. I'm absolutely not going to push the potty thing until I feel Owen is ready, but maybe I'm a little more eager than I was a few weeks ago.

As long as he leaves his undies on.

Have a great weekend, y'all!

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