Day 21: Potty Training

When Hambone was brand new he would scream bloody murder every time we changed his diaper. With his face turning an alarming shade of red, he would scream, not cry, each and every time his diaper was changed. Then he would stop as soon as it was over. The nurses at the hospital said it was  normal but I didn't believe them. How could those screams be normal?

Now, nine years later, those screams are meaningless, but nine years ago, those screams signified everything about my ability to care for this boy.

It was December so we thought it was the cold wipes on his tiny bottom that sent his into hysterics.  We tracked down a wipe warmer and hoped that this would be the solution we were looking for. It wasn't.

"You must be taking too long" my mother insisted over the phone.  "Just hurry up."

So we timed ourselves and we were really efficient about diaper changes, but he still screamed. It was not us.

In the end nothing solved the problem. He just eventually, gradually, stopped screaming.  Instead he laughed and smiled, and cooed at the mobile we hung over his changing table. He stared at us with those big brown eyes as we cared for him and that is when I fell in love with diaper changes. It became a time of cuddles and songs and most of all, gratitude.  I was grateful that he wasn't crying and he seemed grateful that I was cleaning his bottom for him.

Trixie did her business in her own potty for the first time yesterday, which is what got me thinking about those early days with Hambone. She walked around the house holding her potty in her arms, showing everyone what she had done, whether they wanted to see it or not.

And later in the day, when she decided it was time for a diaper, I scooped her up, cleaned her off, and hugged her a little tighter at the end, grateful for the sweet time we have together