What I Got for Mutter's Day

I knew from the day Quin was born that he was the proverbial ‘easy baby’. Literally. Well, at least I wondered because I distinctly remember holding this quiet, calm baby and wondering why he wasn’t crying? Because Liam was not an easy baby. Or toddler. Or preschooler. I’m still trying to figure that kid out.

When I was in the hospital with Liam, I thought for sure Child Protective Services was going to bust down my hospital room door demanding to know what I was doing to that poor infant that required him to scream that way. I closed up the windows in my house right after I brought him home because I didn’t want the neighbors to think I didn’t know what I was doing (I didn’t, but that’s completely beside the point).

Nothing in raising Liam has been easy. He is as stubborn as the sky is blue (no idea where that came from). When he was a year old, I wondered if he would ever be able to eat real food, because he refused to even try solids (at A YEAR OLD). It wasn’t until he was nearly 3 that he finally stopped waking up in the night demanding attention. In fact, there was one night when I was pregnant with Quin, and Liam and I were having such a struggle over getting him to go to bed that I wondered if the infant inside my belly wasn’t just a little afraid to come out and be part of all this craziness.

And then there was the potty training. Oh. The four-letter word in my house. Remember this post?

Yeah. That was last fall. LAST FALL PEOPLE. Liam refused to even consider the potty until he was well past three years old. We’re still working on the night time issues. I’m convinced he’ll be 13 before we’ve conquered that one.

I have a point beyond embarrassing my beautiful boy some day in the future (sorry, Liam).

Point is. Quin: just the exact opposite. And all of this oppositness culminated this weekend when he just DECIDED he was ready to use the potty. Decided. As in, it wasn’t even on my radar because, my god, the kid is only 20 months old. He just started talking a month ago (I’m not even exaggerating, four weeks ago he went from not talking a bit to using two word phrases).

I’ve been privy to some conversations of mothers who have kids about the same age as Quin. They’re all asking questions of each other about potty training, and here I am laughing to myself because, HAHA! They are so naïve. Their kids won’t be training for a quite long time, didn’t they know? They need to just stop worrying about it. For real.

I was wrong. (Mark your calendar, I admitted wrongness.)

Thing is. I didn’t anticipate that Quin would want to mimic his brother and his cousin, both potty aficionados. So it shocked the hell out of me when he wanted to sit on the potty last week. I was shocked, but come on, he’s still just a baby…this won’t lead to anything.

And then this weekend, just for “Mutters Day” I am sure (Mutter’s, as Liam would say), Quin started using the potty. Using, like really and truly using it for its intended purpose. He’s been wandering around in his Thomas the Tank Engine underwear (that are too big for him since I am clearly not the only one who poo-poo’d, pun intended, the thought of a 20 month old needing underwear since the smallest size available is 2T/3T), and he hasn’t had any accidents. He’s even been telling us he needs to go. My baby. Who is not so much a baby. Who just started talking four weeks ago. Who now decides that he is a potty using kind of boy.

I can’t even believe it.

So anyway. When Quin is completely potty trained before Liam, which is looking like will be about next week, I’m hoping that will give Liam good incentive to drop the nighttime pull-ups because at this point, even when I tell him he doesn’t get one at nap time, he still goes into his closet and pulls one on.

No. He’s not stubborn. Not at all.

And Quin. I’m going to be really freaked out when he starts reading next month. Just so you know.