Toilet

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It all began with an attempted trip to the bathroom.

“Honey, please stay here and play with your toys while Daddy goes potty.”

“NO! I want to come in!”

“Can you give Daddy some space, buddy? Why don’t you just sit here and race your cars?”

“No! I want to come in with Daddy!!”

“Baby, you’re a big boy. You can play with your toys for a minute. It’s hard to  potty with you staring at me.”

“No no no! I come in with Daddy!”

I give up the fight, and he follows me into the bathroom. And the next thing I know he’s trying to lift up the toilet seat. The one that I’m sitting on.

“Please stop that. You’re making this really difficult.”

“I want to play in the bathroom with Daddy.”

“Listen, dude. I love you, but I can’t poop with you messing around in here. If you don’t stop, I’m going to pick you up and carry you outside.”

“No! No stop it! I want to play in the bathroom!”

“I’m going to count to three…”

“No! Daddy no count to three!”

“One…”

“No!”

“Two…”

“No! No!”

“Three.”

Commence toddler tantrum.

“Ok. That’s it, Dude. You’re outta here.”

I get off the toilet, scoop up the little animal, and deposit him next to his toys in the living room. Returning to the bathroom, I lock the door behind me with a sigh. And then it begins in earnest. He’s immediately crying so hard he can barely breathe, and it sounds like he’s going to gag himself. Even through the door, I can picture the snot and tears rolling down his face.

I pull up my pants, take a deep sigh, and head back into the living room trenches.

Just another morning at home with a two-year-old.

Explorer

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Like most parents, I’m constantly wondering what the world looks like through my child’s eyes. Our Little Dude currently inhabits a particularly exciting environment, and he never knows what kind of adventure is coming his way. He’s taken to inquiring each morning when he wakes up, “Where’s M going today?”

It cracks us up without fail (not least because he refers to himself in the 3rd person). With all of the travel we’re being spoiled by during our year abroad, the kid thinks that every day he’ll be boarding a plane, train, or automobile. Now that we’re city folk again, there are even buses and subways in his daily life. This weekend we’re going to check out Macau, and he’ll get to take the ferry there and back. Let the good times roll.

Sometimes I’m hard on myself for not being a craftier stay-at-home parent. I don’t take on many art projects, bake cookies, or plan a lot of play dates. Our week lacks the organized activities that we engaged in back in San Diego. But our routine is pretty active, and it’s clear that my sidekick is rarely bored by our life in China. Last night as I prepared him for bed, he asked, referring to the park near our apartment building, “Daddy, can we go up the mountain again tomorrow?”

I’m afraid I’m going to have a lot to live up to when we get home to California. And he’s going to have to get used to his car seat again.