It was a lot of work, but so worth it. He's so used to being asked if he has to potty, in fact, that he was pretending last night and told us his friend was "potty trainin'" He said he was playing on the playground. It was the first time I noticed him really pretend.
It was kind of bittersweet, this past weekend. I didn't realize or even think it would feel like that. I was more scared about pee everywhere and poop in the pants than the reality that my little goose was really growing up.
I found myself kind of irritable most of the day. Besides the obvious fact that hovering over a two year old is not an easy thing to do these days, I also realized that I was losing a little more of my baby that day. And it is only the beginning. I'm not sure if it was because he's a boy and I know from here on out, he'll need John a little more and me a little less. It's normal, it's good, it's growing, I just didn't expect it to sting a little. Literally every time I told him how proud I was of him and how much I loved him, I would tear up. I can be emotional, but I don't cry often. I found myself on the verge of crying most of the weekend and mostly out of joy. Relishing in the joy that we've made it this far with our little man and Lord willing we have many years to come, but what a good little guy he has become. He's my first born. He'll always, always hold such a special place in my heart. Poor guy gets the trial run for pretty much everything, but the love in his heart. Man, he has a lot of love in there. And so, so much grace.
Where will he go in life? What will he want to learn? How can we best fuel his dreams and talents? Oh, Lord. Please give us lots of grace and wisdom on how to raise this precious kiddo. I'm so proud of him.
Lately he's kind of found his emotions and when he's really upset he'll go to his room and cry and talk while he's crying (I have a feeling he's a verbal processor. Kind of like his mama.) and when I go in there to talk to him he'll say to me, "Don't say me, mama! Don't say me." Which I think translates into "Don't talk to me." Which is fine. I've found myself letting him cry/rant as long as he needs to in his room until he's ready to come back out. Apart of me grins when he does it and another part of me is so thankful he's not a stuffer and his passion and frustration is there and he's not afraid to let it out. We'll see if that continues.
Potty training is just the beginning. Next it's learning how to ride a bike, going to children's church instead of the nursery, and one day school. I know it's meant to happen, but not sure how to better prepare myself that we let go a little every day. It's sad, but so necessary for them to grow and become their own person. Here goes nothin'.