I go to do my morning business in the boys’ bathroom because Franklin’s on the machine and his dialysis tubes and stuff block our ensuite. I could climb over and squeeze by the rolling table that holds the prepared gauze pads “pillows”, 2 strips of tape cut to size to adhere the 2 pillows to the entrance points, clips, tape, scissors, water, pen and logs. But, why risk me tripping and ripping the needles out of his arms, I hit my head and become unconscious and he bleeds out? Hollywood worst case scenario I mean, but why risk it when there’s another bathroom? Haha

I ask the the kids if they need the bathroom because I’ve gotta poo. Nope. Ok. As I settle in, the baby runs in and announces urgently he has to pee. Ugh. But I asked you!! As a parent who’s cleaned up accidents, you don’t wait. I could yell for the other kids to come get his potty seat, run him downstairs to the powder room, but like a ticking pee/poo bomb, I don’t know how much time I have for those boys to get over here, the baby’s tiny bladder, speeding down the stairs without falling, pulling down his bottoms and getting onto the toilet in time.

We are at the point where he’s recognizing his body’s cues, so after some quick mental risk calculations, I “clean up” and get his potty seat on the toilet. Potty training includes sitting on the edge of the tub while the little person voids his bladder. There are profound conversations to be had. One happened this morning that was like this

• Me – go pee, babe. (He has that stare that says he’s about to. He doesn’t. So, I fill the silence with some conversation)
• Me – do you have a penis?

• Toddler – yes. I have penith
• Me – does mommy have a penis?
• Toddler – no. You have a guy-guy
• Me – are you a boy?
• Toddler – I am boy
• Me – is mommy a boy?
• Toddler – no. You is girl
• Me – is ge-ge a boy?
• Toddler – he’s a man.
• Me – oh?! Ok ( stifles giggles)
• Toddler – daddy a man too
• Me – you’re right (in my head “is he though?” 😆)