Sometimes there’s so much going on, I don’t know which way is up: our parents’ health, our parents’ moving, travel plans, possible moves, events in the lives of family and friends, and so many other odds-and-ends of things that in the end it all seems odd and up in the air.

It’s usually pretty clear which way is down, though. Down is the direction of the toilet – and we stopped in a UGO bathroom THREE TIMES today. We weren’t even going to go there (although the fact that we did explains the popsicles, chocolate-covered strawberries, and cashews now at our house), but Girl needed to potty. We shopped a little, then Boy needed to potty. We finished shopping, then Girl needed to potty again. Not to be outdone, Boy used the facilities twice more before we left the bathroom that third time. (His diaper remained dry for about two hours! Sure, it was wet after the half an hour drive home, but it’s a start.)

But that’s not even the best of our toilet stories for the moment. Two days ago – or was it three? – Boy announced, “I peed like Daddy!” He’s taken to standing on the little stool in front of the big potty, which is a big change from all the sitting he’s been doing. After finishing, flushing, and washing hands, he came out, grabbed his daddy by the hand, and said, “I need help getting my undies!” and pulled him to the bathroom. Boy’s getting better about dressing himself (“I like to do it my own self” is a favorite line when putting on a shirt), but sometimes he needs help. The undies in question, however, were nowhere to be seen. No undies on the floor, no undies on the stool. No undies in the bathroom, period. “I want my undies!” he cried. He took Matthew to the toilet. And that is where they’d gone, taking their final journey, may they rest in peace: down the toilet. “Even if they could come back, you wouldn’t want them,” Matthew told him. Nope, he wouldn’t.

Sure, we told him not to flush things down the toilet (last week, he unrolled nearly a whole roll of toilet paper, said he’d roll it back up, but instead started putting it all in the toilet. Yes, it clogged the toilet, even after the not-so-wet bunch was transferred to the trash can). No, we don’t support the idea that clothing is disposable. Yes, parenting can be tiring.

What we do appreciate at this point, though, is that they TELL us. I could have done without the extra bathroom trips this afternoon. I’d prefer to keep our clothing in the house and not somewhere in a pipe outside (not very useful as extra storage). For now, however, I take comfort in knowing that our children share their experiences, let us know their needs, and don’t really keep things from us. If we can keep what should go down down and what should stay up up, then we’ll be doing OK.

But maybe we’ll need to go underwear shopping soon.

Up and then down

Up and then down

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