It feels like I just finished toilet training Edwin and now it's time to train Joseph. I've never been much of a 'wait until they're ready' parent with any kind of training, more like a 'now you're ready because I'm ready,' so this means it's time to toilet train Joseph. My sincerest apologies to whoever gets the house after us. I'll try and clean the carpets before we leave.
When you're a parent in this transitory lifestyle, it's all about using windows of opportunity. And since we're leaving Baku at the end of January and Joseph will be two next month, this is a window of opportunity to get him trained. I could wait until after we settled into Oakwood at the end of February, which would mean really April, but that would mean six more months of changing diapers. And why have six more months of changing diapers when you can have no diaper changing for the first time in over seven years? I have been changing someone's diapers since Kathleen was born in August 2006 and I think I'm ready for a break.
So its underwear and bare bums time around our house. Just be warned. If you come over you will probably be treated to some toddler full-frontal nudity.
The other day I was cooking chicken pot pie to take to a friend (never again on a weekday. I don't know how those ladies in the fifties did it, but in our house chicken pot pie is a Sunday meal from here on out) and looked around for Joseph. It's always good to keep free-range babies close at hand where you can see that wiggle dance and crotch-grab that precedes real trouble.
He wasn't in the kitchen, so I looked to make sure wherever he was, he wasn't on the carpet and couldn't find him in the living room. Then I happened to glance at the door and noticed it open a crack. Joseph is always trying to open the front door but we have to keep it locked so usually he's stymied since not even Sophia can figure out which way to turn the lock.
It looked like someone had forgotten to lock the door and Joseph had gotten out. I pulled the door open and scanned the road looking for Joseph. Then I looked down and there he was - innocently sitting on Edwin's red tricycle enjoying his jail break. Watching him were two nannies with their charges, just standing in the middle of the street. When looked more closely, it was more like staring at him with odd expressions on their faces.
People around here, ladies especially, are very diligent about keeping their children very warm. When Joseph was just a little thing I got bothered so much about having his head uncovered that I finally knitted a tiny baby ear-flap hat just so I would be left alone. That day was kind of cold and windy and I knew that Joseph hadn't taken the time to put on a coat, or gloves, or a hat, or shoes, or socks, or even pants, so I shouldn't have been surprised that those nannies had something to be shocked about. Then I looked closer. He hadn't even bothered, for that matter, to even put on underwear. I suppose my boys must have some exhibitionist in them. At least this time Joseph was wearing a shirt.
I was too far gone in children, chicken stock, pie crust, and patience to even feel ashamed. I scooped up Joseph and the ladies kept on walking. After I got inside, the door got locked.
So that's toilet training at our house. After having done this three times, the fourth time barely registers as something new in the daily circus our house. At least, however, this will be over at some point. Hopefully.
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