We have liftoff.

For those of you who don’t really know Rex, he’s not really the most enthusiastic pre-potty trained three-year-old. He’s been known to reply, “I HATE CANDY!” and “No candy, NO CANDY!” when it’s coupled with toilet talk of any kind. I’ve tried potty training him more times than I care to admit. I’ve gotten to the point where the very though of Rex and toilets gives me the kind of anxiety attack that lands my own self on the toilet. But I’m so sick of changing his disgusting diapers. I have two children in size four diapers. That is so wrong.

But today he turned over a new turd. I mean leaf. Did I just say turd? Maybe that’s because my little dumpling actually dropped one of them in his very own toilet all by himself. No adult supervision, no “Need to poo poo yet? I’ve got candy!”, no “Want to sit on your potty chair for a while? I’ve got candy!”, no “Want Mommy to give you an enema? I’ve got candy!” He was flying solo, alone upstairs, while I pretended to know how to play soccer with Harrison in the back yard. I finally started to worry about the two unsupervised kidlets inside so we called it quits and went indoors. What did Harrison find upstairs? Little brother had done the big one AND the big two on his potty all by himself.

Last time I unsuccessfully potty-trained Rex I learned something important. If I make any kind of a big deal about his toilet successes, he will not repeat them. So this time, despite the fact that I was practically wetting my own pants with surprised delight and celebration, I bit my tongue, gave him a gruff, “Good job, son” and handed the kid his blasted candy.

So yay Rexy. Mommy is quietly proud of you. I will not squeal with delight, call Grandma Diane, or even mention your new found skill in front of you. BUT ON MY BLOG I AM FREAKING OUT! YAAAAYY REXY! GO REXY! EVERYBODY SAY “WA_HOO” FOR REXY!

I’ll let you know how tomorrow goes.