I had just gotten out of the shower, was drying off and about to put on my bathing suit for our morning at the pool. W and Pman walked in on cue (it's like a whistle sounds the minute I take off clothes, sit on the toilet or get out of the shower). and W says, "Hey, I like your things that make milk for cows."

I think it's time I stop dressing in front of them. What do you think?

Poopying (v.)

Poopying-I can't find a definition for it but it is certainly an often used word in our house. It's a verb of course and W does a lot of it. But since Pman has approached the two and a half mark, W seems to be doing a lot more "poopying'. Or so we thought. It kind of got out of control. I mean, he was poopying for hours upon hours and then one day I intruded on his privacy. That's a big thing around here. "I need privacy" is a sacred phrase. If you say it, it's taken seriously by anyone and anybody. It's the only thing I can say to get alone time in the shower or the potty. But one day I disregarded his statement. Please forgive me oh, poopy god of privacy, and I walked in only to find W on the closed toilet reading a book. His response was that he needed to get away from "all of Pman's crying."

Amen brother. That one statement completely describes our lives right now. God love him, that Pman, but anything to find a few minutes of peace from him. Even if it's sitting in the lou for half an hour.

On another note...W went to the potty this morning after listening to Pman whine and cry over anything and everything. I think he went in for solace and ended up deciding he had to go. So he was in there for at least 30 minutes. When finally he asked for help, the toilet bowl was full, as usual. Really full. I know, too much information, but he got up and I told him I would flush it and he said, "the flusher is broken". I sighed and thought to myself, you knew the toilet was broken but you just filled her up anyway? and yep, shurnuf, she wouldn't flush. What a great beginning to the day.