A break from politics today as there's really nothing that needs to be said about Dubya's speech last night. He obviously thinks he's playing D&D or something because he's certainly not living in the real world. (PS: Dubya may be a dope but the Democrats really need to come up with better than Pelosi and Daschle for their rebuttal. Booooooooooooooring! Would have rathered see Howard Dean hulking up again.)
This weekend, Isaac decided out of the blue that he's ready to start using the toilet. Not his potty that's been sitting under the sink, defiantly neglected, but the regular toilet. Fortunately, we've got the little boy seat that keeps him from falling in. (It also allows him to pee right on the floor if he's not paying attention but that's another story.) My attitude towards potty training is that he'll do it when he's ready. There's really no other way to go about it without driving yourself crazy and possibly traumatizing the kid in the process.
Of course, when it comes to kids, with the good comes the bad. They learn to feed themselves, and they make a mess. They learn to talk, and they never stop. They learn logic, and question everything you tell them. They learn to use the toilet, and they have to go constantly. Sometimes back to back. To back. To back. And you have to indulge every request because you don't want them to backslide and feel bad about it. Most times, he really does go and it's a point of pride as he realizes it's one of those big boy steps. At his new daycare, all the kids are potty-trained and I'm sure that's what spurred his sudden interest because before this weekend, he couldn't care less, to the point of even denying he had a dirty diaper despite the overwhelming smell trailing behind him.
On Monday night, shortly before his bath, he used the toilet and we left him diaperless for a little while. At one point, Salomé looked into his room to find him laying on his little couch watching Bob the Builder, his pants pulled down and yanking away! Twenty minutes later, he peed on his rug.