Apologies. And then, the rest.

First, I need to take care of some business. Little Monster has taken to saying "Stupid Woman!" in a rather rude and hilarious tone. I blamed Not the Momma, because he has been known to say those words, with that inflection when he is driving and a woman cuts him off, etc. (You don't want to know what he says to guys. Praise the Lord that Little Monster hasn't repeated that!) So, I blamed him. We are not allowed to say the "long S word" in our house anymore, because each time LM hears it "Stupid Woman!" or "Stupid Dog!" or stupid something comes out of his mouth.

This morning as we were getting ready to leave the house, Little Monster was watching one of his favorite shows -- Calliou. I used to hate the show, but because it grants me 30 minutes of peace, I've made peace with it. Yes, the kid is whiny and the parents are perfect and never lose their patience (even when it is freezing, snowing, you lose your keys, the car won't start and you were already running late). BUT, there are generally lessons learned. This mornings lesson: Stupid isn't a nice word. It all starts when a skateboarding kid nearly crashes because of some birds and says "Stupid Birds!" with the same inflection that NtM and LM say Stupid Woman! So, perhaps Little Monster learned that word from somewhere other than NtM. I apologize sweetie. But you still can't say that, or any other fun words around the kid.

That kid of ours. What can I say? He's a parrot. But if you tell him he's a parrot, he'll probably say. "No, I too loud." And then go on to tell you about how he's a "duper-hero" and how he has to "ressssue teeple." If you're really lucky he'll tell you about how he and his blue hands are taking a rocket ship to the moon with Mickey Mouse. No joke. He really thinks he's going to the moon with Mickey. I hate to spoil his fun, though. At least we're getting past the whole "poop" everywhere thing. We've not had an accident or wet pants or pull-ups (during the day) for a week now. Progress! Of course, we have had to discuss the texture and shape that the, um, fecal matter takes once it lands in the potty. Isn't that a fun discussion? So, while I'm not cleaning up the poop so much, my life is still heavily saturated with discussions about it.

Even though I won't miss the potty-training clean ups, I'm going to miss the 2 1/2 year old version of this child. This child whose imagination knows no bounds. The child who makes up stories daily, pretends to be a dog, cat, Buzz Lightyear and Boo-bot Monsters or Dinosaurs. I'm going to miss his giggle and the dance and song he preforms when goes poop in the potty. I'm definitely going to miss hearing his demands for the cowboy song at nighttime, and his know-it-all attitude. Especially when I tell him he's cute, and he says "No, I'm LM."