We made a family trip to Target this weekend. The week before, while at Target in Eagle Rock I was dismayed to see that in the training pants section all they had were the Superman underwear. It is a closer Target to our house, and there’s much less travel traffic, but it is typically understocked, so this week we ventured to Burbank.
Just as we expected, we were able to easily find what we sought in Burbank. I am one step closer to being ready to potty train Little Red. He’s been showing readiness left and right for several months, but I’ve been dragging my feet. I never had any delusions of showcasing my child’s intellectual prowess by being potty trained early (I mean no offense to those who are so compelled.) I never had any hangups with the idea of two kids in diapers and I would much rather wait longer than cause emotional damage by trying to train a child on my schedule. That said, I’m not blind to all of his signs and I would be remiss if I ignored this teaching moment because I wasn’t ready, and tried to suppress his development for another six months until I was ready. That, I believe, could be even more damaging.
Buying the training pants takes me one step closer to biting the bullet. I have to get on it, soon, if I’m going to do it, so that there’s a big enough gap between the potty and the new baby that the baby issue won’t become a potty issue.
My in-laws wanted to buy Little Red a big boy bed for Christmas. For about two months they’ve been asking us if we had decided yet which bed we wanted and we kept putting it off because we were too distracted with all the other stuff we had going on. Saturday we were out and feeling good so we decided to look at beds.
I’m not one for spur-of-the-moment purchases, so we had supper before buying it, but we both felt so good about the extendable bed we found (at IKEA, of course.) We’re so excited! We put it together last night and Little Red slept all night in his big boy bed, getting up only an hour earlier than normal, but half an hour later than yesterday. Paul and I each snuck into his room before we went to bed, just to peer at our sweet guy in his big bed. It was a very big moment for us and I know we chose just the right bed. (Completely unintentionally, the boys’ room is completely coordinated with each piece a light wood.) He even slept through RockStarNextDoor’s first late-night guitar practice of the new year without the humidifier as white noise.
And this morning, while I was typing this, Little Red broke a necklace that I had inherited from Paul’s grandmother. “Oh no!” I exclaimed, which made him cry. I picked up the pieces and put them out of reach (I had thought the whole thing was out of reach.) Then I turned to him, he was still sobbing, and said, “I know you didn’t mean to break my necklace. I’m sorry I got upset. Can you tell me you’re sorry you broke my necklace?”
“No thank you,” he sobbed. I love two year olds!