Two stories can be told by this photo.

Story One:

Not 15 minutes after photographing this sparse montage of Lexington’s brooms, it got pooped on.
I’m not joking!

Lexington has been slowly and gently potty-training. I’m not a pusher and sometimes when I ask him if he wants to try he tells me no. I figure when he’s ready, he’ll do it. I talk to him about it, we watch Elmo’s Potty Time probably 5ish times a week, and he does go peepee on the toilet by himself.

But today was his first Numba Two in the big boy toilet!
I wanted to shout to the world “MY LITTLE BOY POOPED IN THE TOILET!!!!!”
I have never been so proud and filled with welled-up emotion over a bowel movement in my life.
And trust me, that means a LOT coming from me: I have IBS and go maybe 3 times a week.

…*awkward crickets, chirping, looking shifty-eyed*…

Sorry for the TMI…
….okay, moving on…

But didn’t I just say that this drawing was pooped on?
Well, it was, a little bit.
We had just entered the room from a recent attempt at going number two. I didn’t put his diaper on him immediately because I suspected there was a legitimate bowel about to move.

“whas that? Whas that?” Lexington was suddenly asking me. I had flopped back down next to our doodle board and crayons and I noticed he was pointing at a half-grape-sized little brown wet substance.

I’m thinking, “okay that doesn’t look like anything we just ate so it’s not food…”
I picked up the paper, smelled it and confirmed it was a leeeetle beet of peuuuupy.
After the 3 seconds it took me to make this observation and conclusion, I sharply looked back up at Lexington and gently asked, “this is poop, isn’t it?”

And my little boy, with his huge, hazel, baggy eyes looked at me. At the brink of tears and nearly ashamed, he said “yup” in the most serious, matter-of-fact voice I’ve ever heard come from a two year-old.

I smiled and said “Okay! Good! Let’s go back on the potty and try again!”
He instantly brightened up and we hurried to the bathroom. The moment his little fanny hit his Toy Story big boy seat, I heard the little “plop!” into the bowl of water.

We clapped and gave high-fives and said “YAYYYYEEE!”
I gave him a Popsicle for his treat and we called his dad and Nene (gma) to boast.

And that’s the most I’ve ever written about that topic.

Story Number Two about the above image will have to come separately, and tomorrow.