Anyone Seen Jack and Why Do I Hear Water Running?

That title is a bit of a mouthful, but it perfectly describes the picture I am about to show you. I almost don't need to give you any details... but I will!

A couple days ago, Jack was sitting on the living room floor, busy stripping from the waist down. I asked him what he was doing, and he said, "I need to go potty! Taking pants off!"

Well, great! As I neared him to help with the process, he put his hand up and said, "No help, mom. I do it self!"

Even better! Although I knew this could make a slight mess, I admired his determination and decided it was worth it for him to learn to do this without me. I stepped back and let him finish undressing, walk his naked buns into the bathroom, and shut the door. Just before he shut it completely, he stuck his little face through the crack in the door and said, "Stay mom. Need privacy."

I must have been blinded by my excitement over his desire to do this alone. I normally would have immediately been suspicious by all his attempts to be alone in the bathroom with the door shut.

Not only did I not get suspicious, I actually forgot about him in there, as I got busy doing things with the other boys, making dinner, etc.

About 10 minutes later, I noticed the sound of water running. I immediately though "Mitchell!" but he was with me. The next thing I said was, "Has anyone seen Jack?" We opened the door to the bathroom and there he was, naked from the waist down still, toilet lid open, pee in the toilet (and not on the floor yay!) standing on the stool by the sink with a sink overflowing with bubbles and an empty soap dispenser in his hand.

I do have to hand it to him for going pee all on his own. How did I miss his intentions though, when I know how badly he wants to play with that soap? It did keep him occupied and out of my hair for a good 10 minutes though. I considered pretending I didn't see it at all...

The Dentist Strikes Again!

I think that the "killer" phase is over.  At least, I haven't heard any more about it since a couple weeks ago, when he made the decision that he would like to be a "killer" and kill bad guys (and sometimes Ben) when he grows up.

My little dentist is back.  He no longer just works on teeth and the mouth in general though.  This is a special dentist who can do...well, just about anything really.  It depends on what kind of tool he has recently discovered.  Sometimes, he is sawing off my legs and re-attaching them with water from his water bottle.  Sometimes he needs to draw on my belly to show where he is going to cut me open and fix my stomach.  Sometimes the tools get a bit creative: a few days ago, he made me lay still while he put puzzle pieces down the back of my shirt.  I forget exactly how that was fixing me...

He finds tools for his "dentistry" everywhere he goes, but just yesterday, he finally discovered my drawer in the bathroom full of odd hair styling equipment.  When he found these tools, his eyes got wide and he said, "I didn't know you had dentist tools in here!  I need these!"  He ran to get his goggles (they are one of his constant tools when he's working) and got to work with his new equipment!  What a discovery this was!  To be honest, I rarely use this stuff anyways, so I am glad someone is getting some use out of it!  

The next day, he returned to his treasure drawer, digging deaper to find a small bag of nail polish.  Oh man, what can we use these for?  In the end, he ended up setting them all up in a neat little row, got a cup out of the bathtub, and proceeded to make mixed drinks with them (not opening them, of course, just pretending.)  He'd shake one in the cup, then another, stir it up, and name it something gruesome like "bloody goo" and "sticky tub water."  I had to pretend to drink them, but I didn't pretend to like it!  One of the grossest mini-bar selections I've ever seen!

Ouch!

I guess I was taking a little too long in the bathroom this morning because my "audience" came to find me and ask what I was doing in there.  Isn't it obvious what I am doing with my pants down, sitting on the toilet?  But little kids are masters of the obvious, so I had to sit there with three little boys watching me, asking specifics about my...well, the whole process.  Mitchell was certain I wasn't finished yet because my poop was too big to come out (he just had that problem a few days ago and no, I was not suffering from that problem) and asked if I had "saw poop."  When I asked him to explain what that was, he said, "You know, the sharp kind that hurts to come out!"  Ben quickly joined in saying, "Oh!  I call that Stegasaurus poop!"  Wow.  Those are both quite...descriptive terms...but also quite accurate!  Nothing like a little humorous entertainment from my "audience" while parked on the pot!