We went on a family walk this evening: me, Stacy, Gavin, and Henri. Gavin was really interested in Henri's tree sniffing and soon started imitating him. When Henri peed on a tree, Gavin squatted on the lawn and said that he, too, was peeing. He took another look at Henri and stuck his leg out to better approximate Hen's peeing posture. Gavin then wanted to stop and smell every tree, a level of tree-sniffing devotion even Henri does not have. Stacy explained to him, in Spanish, that there were a lot of trees and we didn't have time to sniff all of them. I understand Spanish well enough to have understood such a thing, but I could never say it myself, if that makes sense. Eventually Henri had to take a dump and Gavin once again squatted down on the grass and said, "Gavin poop." When Hen was done I used a baggie to clean up after him (because I am a responsible dog owner, thank you very much. Definitely a pet peeve, pun very much intended, when people don't clean up after their dogs). Gavin then wanted a bag to clean up his own poop (which, to be clear, did not exist. We aren't letting Gavin bare squat on our neighbors' lawns or anything) and carry along with him just like I was doing with Henri's. He was very proud. I, too, was proud because if you're going to shit on someone's lawn you should at least have the decency to clean it up. That's the kind of son I want to raise. We're clearly training him to be the next Bear Grylls, though vegetarian.
Last night I spent a good deal of time reading books to a naked Gavin as he said on his little toilet. He kept saying, "Poop coming." But it never did. Stacy repeated this activity this evening. He's showing more interest than ever in the place where his bodily functions and our indoor plumbing collide. Earlier today he wanted to put his poop from his diaper into the toilet, which I let him do despite my desire to say, "Oh, hell no." I figure his interest is good and this is a step in the right direction. Like I said, ever since we went to Mexico and he got to see Brenden in potty-trained action, his own interest in the process is piqued. As his parent, it's my job to foster and encourage that on one hand, while on the other hand play it cool and not be too demanding or judgmental so he doesn't end up growing up with insane poo and/or pee related fetishes or phobias. Being a parent is fun! Everything is so low stakes.
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