Big Boy Froggy Potty

I am a hostage in my own bathroom.  Picture this:  Danica, rocking the cubic zirconium earrings, sequined top and skinny jeans, blogging on the floor of her bathroom with a naked 2 year old.  Yes, this is my life.

Rewind five hours: 

The kids and I were doing our weekly WalMart run, and as I stood in front of the diapers trying to decide whether to go with a size '4' or bump up to a '5' for my son, a little something inside me said, "Danica, man up and potty train the kid, already."  Now, I know there are lots of different ideas about potty training, and he might not be ready, but in this moment of (in)sanity, I had just about enough of diapers.  So we picked out a cute little froggy potty and continued on with the shopping. 

Xander was very interested.  The packaging had a picture of a little boy sitting, grinning as he pee peed on the big boy froggy potty.  As Sophie picked out her weekly allotment of Kool-Aid, I talked it up with Xander. 

"Wooooowwwwww, see the big boy?!!  HE'S going pee pee on the BIG BOY POTTY.  Look at that, Xander!  What a big boy!  Do YOU think YOU could make poo poo in the big boy froggy potty???"  I looked up to find that I had blocked the aisle and the man waiting impatiently to get by had.  Heard.  The.  Entire.  Thing.  My cool-mom image grew wings and flew up to the rafters where it could hide.

Fast forward to after nap time:

With Goal #1 of my New Years Resolutions in mind, I busied myself picking up the house while the kids watched a movie.  A bottle of wine was chilling in the fridge, a roast cooking in the crockpot, and operation 'Celebrate Scott's First Day on the Job' was in full swing.  Right before 5:00, I changed out of my comfies - a '98 Westlake Cross Country tee (donned in hopes of motivating myself to get up and run sometime in the near future, see Goal #5), and the 'fisherman pants' my parents brought me from Thailand.

Enter 'Cool, Sophisticated Mama Danica', with my cubic Z earrings, cute top, and (not so skinny) jeans.  At this moment, Xander calls to me, "Mommy, I go potty!"  We rush to the bathroom.  Strip him down, and low and behold, he manages to produce .... nothing. 

I've never potty trained a boy before.  So I didn't anticipate sitting for minutes on end staring at my son's 'twigs and berries'.  I mean, I only have second hand knowledge of that hardware, and I am paranoid that when he does go, it's going to spray all over my bathroom like a sprinkler hose in the summer time.  So you better believe I'm keeping pretty close watch.  In the village the kids just run around naked, and when they 'have to go', they just pop a squat wherever they happen to be at.  An obliging older sibling then scoops the solids up in a coconut husk and tosses it in the bushes.  I've even seen a kid whizzing away as he ran after a friend.  Drive-by-peeing.

The thing is, Xander loves candy, and he also loves being in his birthday suit.  He's never been allowed to run free before (for obvious reasons), so he's totally digging this.  He's not about to leave the bathroom, because 1) if he pees he gets CANDY, and 2) he gets to be naked. 

So for now I'm stuck watching Xander climb in and out of the tub singing, "I NAAAA-ked".

Good thing I have a laptop.