Fun times with potty time

Benjamin earned his train set today!

Not only did he fill up his sticker chart, he also finally told someone that he needed to go potty and then managed to hold it until we made it to the bathroom. I was practically bursting with pride...or relief. One or the other.

Andrew and I were in choir practice in the chapel and Benjamin was playing with his sisters in the cultural hall. The curtain was open a crack so that totally counts as supervising them. We were in the middle of rehearsing a song when Miriam rushed through the chapel doors and onto the choir stand.

"Mom!" she whispered. "Benjamin says he needs to go potty!"

I jumped up, ran for the diaper bag (because if he says he has to go that usually means he's already gone), and then rushed out to find him. He wasn't in the cultural hall anymore so I embarrassingly ran around the church calling, "Ben! Benji! Benjamin!" until I ran into my friend's husband, whose name, of course, is Ben.

"Oh, hey, Ben," I said awkwardly. "Have you seen my Ben?"


Miriam eventually found him hiding in a corner (he likes to find corners when he needs to go potty).

"Sorry, Mommy," Benjamin sniffed.

"Did you already go?" I asked.

"Es," he said.

"That's okay. It took me a while to find you. Let's go take care of things."

But when we got to the bathroom I found that he hadn't gone yet (at least, not enough to soil his underwear). I praised him up one side and down the other while he did his business on the toilet.

"What did you say to Miriam?" I asked him.

"Me tell Miriam, 'Me poopy!'" he said.

"That's perfect!" I said. "That's all you need to say. Just find the closest big person when you need to go potty, tell them that, and they'll help you! It's easy! You did so great!"

Seriously. Guys. I can't even explain how happy this incident made me feel.

At dinner my favourite "part-a-day" was that Benjamin finally told someone he needed to go potty before he'd actually gone.

Miriam's "part-a-day" was that Benjamin told her that he needed to go potty and that she delivered the message to me.

Benjamin's favourite "part-a-day" was that he tripped at church, fell down, and cried. I don't think he was feeling very positive today. He cried a lot.

Rachel's "part-a-day" was just church. And I think Andrew's was "eating this food."

We now do "part-a-day" anytime we eat anything. At breakfast Benjamin demands to know everyone's favourite "part-a-day." Usually it's "waking up" because we don't do very much at our house before breakfast. We also do "part-a-day" for lunch, snacks, dinner, dessert, cups of water, and any other time Benjamin might sit at the table to consume anything with any other person.

"Part-a-day, Daddy?" he'll ask and then listen intently to the answer before asking his next target. If you mess up his intended order he gets rather upset. It's hilarious.

I love that he's taken on the presiding role of this family tradition.

On a less positive note, he was playing in the kitchen this evening when I heard...questionable noises.

"Benjamin, did you just go potty?" I asked.

"Es," he whimpered.

So. Much. Diarrhea.

I couldn't even blame him for it because from the looks and sounds of things he had no idea it was coming. Andrew stepped in and took care of everything (he's a good man).

He's been sick since Monday.

Croup. Fever. Febrile rashes. Runny nose. Nasty cough. And now this.

We tried not taking him to church today but he begged to go. "Please me go church!" he wailed. "Please me go church!" He loves going to church; how could we say no to that? Besides, he's been mostly okay during the day the past couple of days—he only coughs occasionally and otherwise is active and (mostly) happy. We figured he'd be alright, though we didn't send him to nursery. He came to class with me and mostly just sat in the corner and ate goldfish. Then he came to sharing time for the last hour and wandered between me and Andrew (my class is in the very front on one side of the room and Andrew's class is in the very back on the other side of the room).

His pleading reminded me of a story I read recently about Elder L. Tom Perry:

Young Tom was committed to perfect attendance at Church. One Sunday he was so sick with tonsillitis that his parents decided the attendance record would have to be broken. All members of the family left for Church except Tom and his mother. The family was surprised to see them enter the chapel only a few minutes after the meeting had started. Despite the fact that he was quite ill he made every effort possible to be where he knew he was supposed to be.

That will be my excuse for why we brought our sicker-than-we-thought boy to church today (we thought he was on the mend—the diarrhea was a complete surprise): he's just trying to follow the example of Elder Perry. He really wanted to go to church today!