Pee-pee party

I wish we could have a pee-pee party. Boy, do I wish. If I could pay someone to do this potty training thing for me I would put another mortgage on the house. Just shortly after we started to potty train Treyton (which has been .178% effective, by the way), he came up with an interesting excuse for not going potty in the potty. By the way, I wonder how many times a day I say that? "potty in the potty....potty in the potty....potty in the potty" His imagination is rather impressive. He told us that the potties weren't coming out because they were watching a movie. Nice one, T-man. Call them Siskel and Eibert (sp?) as they're always tied up in the theater down under. My only redeeming thought is this: Drug addicts that don't take care of their children one bit somehow manage to get potty trained. I'd just rather throw the whole thing out of the window. Maybe that stupid potty could become a nice bird bath.

A stroller and a rope

Most moms would probably poo poo the idea of their son having a play stroller. I did too at first. I actually bought it for Galina. Sort of embarrassed me that my son took to it like spit up on a nursing mom's shirt. He loved pushing it around. We often take it as we walk down the block to the mail box. Galina being pushed by me; Treyton pushing his play stroller. Yes, I would get the looks from the neighbors or drive-bys. Was I intentionally trying to raise a pansy-boy? And then I started to think about it a little more. It's not so much the stroller he was pushing, but what was IN the stroller. If the neighbors would look carefully they would see a dump truck, a blankie, or some other toy. Yesterday he took his beloved rope on our walk to the mailbox. A rope. Could come in handy, don't ya know.......Like tieing up a mean ol' passer-by. hehehe