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Sunday morning is my day to sleep in. TJ gets up around 7:30 every morning, which works out well for Tom and I going to work during the week, but we like to be able to catch up on some sleep on the weekends. Tom gets to sleep in until 9:30 on Saturday mornings, and I get to sleep in until 9:30 on Sunday mornings.
You may notice that I’m writing this before 9:30 today.
I don’t know exactly what time it happened, because I didn’t open my eyes, but TJ was screaming bloody murder an hour or so ago. I stayed in bed for a little while, trying to get the most of my Sunday morning sleep, but I just couldn’t fall back asleep. So I got up.
When I came downstairs, I asked the guys what all the fuss was about.
Tom replied, “Cheerios.” I asked for more information. As he was spelling p-o-t-t-y, TJ burst into tears, screaming that he didn’t want Cheerios in the potty.
“Don’t want to sink Cheerios, Mommy! Don’t want to sink Cheerios!”
Didn’t see that one coming.
We’ve been trying to convince TJ to pee standing up, so that he doesn’t have so much trouble going potty at school. Putting Cheerios in the toilet bowl is supposed to make it fun for little boys to learn to pee standing up while aiming at them, right? Not for my boy.
Tom said that TJ was trying to get the Cheerio out of the potty. When he tried to calm him down by saying he had thousands of other Cheerios still in the box, TJ screamed back.
“Don’t want thousands of Cheerios, Daddy!”
No, he wanted that one. The one in the toilet bowl.
*headdesk*
That’s me: Christina Gleason. I’m a writer, editor, and disability advocate. I'm a multiply disabled autistic lady doing my best in this world built for abled people. I’m a geek for grammar, fantasy, and casual gaming. I hate vegetables. I cannot reliably speak, so I’ll happily conduct business over email or messaging instead.
Ah. Yes. This would have been a good time to tell him you needed to do magic to get the Cheerio out, but he needs to leave the room. You then flush it and give him a new one. Yes, this will bite you in the butt in the future when he wants his precious cookie out of the toilet and you don’t have an extra, but in the midst of a Cheerio crisis, you have to do what you have to do…
I’ll have to remember that for the next time something like that happens!