boys

I am not really sure how it started, but my boys have a very silly bedtime ritual with their daddy. After both boys are in their beds, Keith gives each of them a hug and kiss and a reminder to be good boys tomorrow.

As he starts to walk out of the room, the boys start.

"Love-oo, daddy."
"I love you, Dad."
"Love-oo, doo-doo."
"I love you, Mr. Benner-bon."
"Love-oo, poo-poo."
Last night, Micaiah said, "I love you, old pop."

The sillier the better and the boys laugh at their own silliness. And then Keith joins in.

"I love you, boys."
"I love you, stink toes."
"I love you, stinker feet."

One night, Keith said, "I love you, girls." He said this in the highest falsetto I have ever heard come from him. Our sons laughed so hard. They were yelling that they were not girls, they were boys. All the while laughing with their daddy.

I love bedtime, not just for the obvious reasons, but because it's filled with hugs, kisses, love you's and tickles. And laughs.

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Potty training. It's not for the faint of heart, that's for sure.

Several months ago, Caleb was doing exceptionally well with it. He would even tell me when he had to go to the bathroom when we were out in public. I thought we were well on our way.

Until...oh yes, until. He started going in his pants again. Many times a day. I had experience on my side and remembered Micaiah going through the exact same phase. So I kept at it. I kept taking him to the bathroom every hour and amidst many wet (and dirty!) pants, I reminded myself that if I stay consistent, he'll get it again.

Three times this week, he has told me that he had to go potty. Before he went in his pants, mind you. I cheered, sang songs to him and did silly dances. He laughed all over himself of course.

It is a process. And I think we are on our way.