Potty Time

(Today's post brought to you by the good folks at Unisom)

Good morning! I finally acquired some fabulous, deep sleep without the recurring nightmare about finding myself captive in a high-rise building (Freud would have a freaking heyday with that one) or being jarred awake by either my mentally ill cat or Erik sobbing his heart out in the other room. Unfortunately, sleeping soundly for me seems to require getting absolutely no sleep at all the night before. I'll still gladly take it.

The books I ordered arrived from Amazon.com yesterday. I received two children's books on going to the potty. One of them shows Baby Ernie depantsing himself in order to use a cheerful-looking plastic toilet. That was a bit unnerving, but after some getting used to the idea of a Muppet on a toilet or having buttocks, I'm cool with it. Kermit the Frog was usually seen without pants, after all. The other book utilized so many cutesy words for bodily functions that I almost found myself running for the nearest potty to vomit (vomiting was not covered in this volume and will probably follow in the collegiate edition). I will be editing this book with my trusty Sharpie fine point marker. You see, I come from a home where these words were simply not spoken. I can remember using the word "pee" once as a teenager and getting a silent, sideways look. I never uttered the word again while I lived at home and rarely use it to this day (cursing was not allowed in our home either, but for some reason, it is quite natural for me to swear like a sailor upon bashing my shin on the coffee table). Being a medical transcriptionist, I am fully comfortable with the words we used to describe the next of the numbered bodily functions. Growing up, we utilized the term "BM" for bowel movement, which, as it turns out, sends my husband into fits and amuses me to no end. Brian and I actually spent more time discussing what to call what comes from our son's backside than we did on any topic in premarital counseling. Now that we have established the appropriate term for excrement in our household (poop), I was horrified to realize we didn't really utilize a common term for urinating growing up. Not that I remember, anyway. We simply seemed to have an unspoken understanding of what would someone would do if they "went to the bathroom." It sounds so mysterious! Personally, the jury is still out on that one. My parents did a great job with us, as I am a fairly happy, well-adjusted adult with no real issues regarding using a private or public bathroom, but I may have to call them in as consultants on this one.

I also received two books on learning how to play the keyboard/piano. I sat down with one last night, and all of the years of reading music as a teen began coming back to me. Of course, being a flute player, I never officially learned to play the piano, but my mother taught me enough to give me a good foundation for learning more. Brian and I have vowed to at least brush up on our music skills and play with our new keyboard in order to entice Erik into sitting down and trying his hand at it. It turns out that no enticement was necessary, however. Since we set up the keyboard on its stand in our living room, he has spent many 30-minute-plus sessions perched on a kitchen chair at its helm. It seems to me that he is memorizing the sound of each key, although I may be reading more into this. What is without question is the fact that he loves playing it. He rarely ever pounds on it like a typical 2-year-old would be wont to do. He seems to analyze each note as it rings out and talks about the "pee-nan-no" quite frequently.

(To T: Thank you for your note. I am interested in hearing from you again about your family. I have added my e-mail on my profile. Just click "e-mail me," and you can send me a private message.)