Potty Train

I'm absolutely loving my kids right now. Of course they both have their moments of terror. Just ask our neighbors. Actually, please don't. But 8 months and 2 1/2 might just be the two funnest ages that were ever invented.

Gwendolyn, with her two teeth sticking up from the bottom, gives us goofy grins about nearly everything. Including, I'm afraid, her brother's tantrums which she sees as a comedy routine. She's a big copy-cat so we're in a phase of teaching her tricks like she's our little puppy. "How big is Gwendolyn? So big!", with her arms straight up in the air. I've always loved the look of a little baby, arms up, finger tips barely reaching above the height of their head, so disproportionate by adult standards. She has a noise that sounds like a "bark" so we're working on "What does a dog say?" and she loves clicking her tongue so that's the "What does a clock say?"Trick. Not that she has any idea what any of this means, but its fun for us to watch her start to make associations between words and actions. And Abel thinks its wonderful. She waves now whenever she looks in mirrors and I feel like she's so grown-up now that she plays happily with toys on her own for a few minutes at a time. Probably my favorite Gwendy-ism is the way she shows excitement. She starts her feet kicking as fast as they can while breathing so hard you'd think she would hyperventilate, with an enormous grin on her face. She does this when she sees me come in the door on days I work and I can't wait for the big slobbery baby kisses that follow.

One day I told Abel, "Abel, you're my favorite boy," and he immediately replied "Mommy, you're my favorite Mommy." I didn't hide how happy that made me so its become a rather common exchange these days.
I report, in great fear of either bragging (but then again what's the point of this blog?) or of speaking too soon (because I've heard how these things go) that Abel is nearly potty-trained without a hitch. After much interest expressed on Abel's part, Josiah took him out on an "expedition" two weeks ago to buy some train underwear, the neighbor handed down a little potty chair, we had a supply of jelly-beans, and that was it.

I never considered how this topic of much discussion amongst mothers of two-year-olds is interpreted by the kids themselves until just before Abel's nap today. While he sat on the little blue plastic potty he was making his "chugga-chugga choo choo" sounds and I asked him if he was getting excited about our train trip to Virginia on Tuesday. I don't think that's what prompted the train noises at all because he answered, "I'm a Potty Train." Leave it to Abel to hear the "train" in potty-training.

One more story before turning to more appropriate uses of my children's naptime. This is basically a view into the part of parenting that brings me the greatest joy of all. They truly love each other. Abel is most certainly Gwendolyn's hero. No one else can make her laugh like he can. And Abel really adores "his baby", and watches out for her and tries to help her. Sure, its interspersed with cheek-pinching and toy-snatching on his part and hair-pulling on hers but Josiah and I both loved a moment we had this week while getting them dressed for bed...
That morning, I had dressed Abel in an obnoxious hand-me-down t-shirt that said on the front "My sister did it" which I had only put him in because he was wearing overalls that covered up the sassy remark. When we went to undress them for bed, Josiah pulled down the overalls and said, "Your sister did it". Abel, in the most sweet, enthusiastic voice, without even knowing what Josiah was talking about, looked at Gwendolyn and said, "Goooood job, Sister!"