My poor blog has been suffering lately. Everything I want to write is rather dark and a bit depressing and delving into my inner philosopher. For today, I'm not going to make you all suffer through that with me. So I haven't been updating much. With the passing of my grandma, I am really trying to hold onto happy thoughts. So for today, I'm going to tell you a poop story. Everyone has poop stories about their kids and James has some good ones, especially as a tiny infant. But this is a more current tale.
We've been using "potty words" more and more often with James, in preparation of actually potty training him (one day, we're no where near actually training at the moment) so we ask him a lot if he's pooping or peeing, if he needs a diaper, etc. He always responds no, because that's just the phase of life he's in. Everything is a no. So after he says no, I feel his butt to see if there is anything in his diaper. As a result, anytime I ask James if he's pooping or needs to, he reaches back and rubs his butt. Its pretty cute, if I say so. But he'll rub his butt and then respond no, so maybe we are getting somewhere! (Okay, this could be wishful thinking...) We've also been practicing taking his own pants off, which is fairly entertaining. I know we have a long ways to go before potty training, but a girl can dream!
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