Praisallujah

Congratulations are in order, friends! In this house, on this day, Hank went poop in the potty. We are beaming with pride. I think what made the difference is that we are all home on a weekend for the first time in many weeks, and Matt and I were both talking about the whole issue to him. And Laura took it upon herself to make him a sticker chart. She made a line for number one too, so he could experience some early success. (I don't know where she gets it, but she has some pedagogical genius.) After a few false tries, he came into the house and asked for me to leave him alone in the bathroom, and then the deed was done. We hugged him and high-fived him and gave him a skittle, and then an airplane wrote his name in the sky, and I don't think that was too much, do you?

Yesterday I was laughing, because he asked me if he could take a drink into the bathroom to sit on the potty with, and I thought that might relax him and get him to linger. So I said, "Sure you can." He said, "Okay Mom, I want a popsicle and some hot chocolate."

I don't know if I would be able to manage those two things on the toilet, and I don't even think a popsicle is really a drink.