Looking back, I see I made a vague mention of Henry peeing on the toilet. But fortunately I failed to launch into a glowing, awe-struck exposition about how he was suddenly using the toilet five times a day, including every single poop.
That was all very exciting, and although I told everyone I had nothing to do with it, I secretly thought it might be a sign of very good parenting on my part. I wasn't sure what I had done, exactly, but clearly it was successful.
But now, less than two weeks later, the potty is already a thing of the past. Last weekend he came up to me and said, "Poop," and I said, "Great! Let's get to the toilet," and he yelled, "No! Poop in diaper!" and ran away.
I tried a few more times. I even bought him "Elmo's Potty Time" on DVD. He loves the show, but doesn't seem interested in emulating Elmo. I'm not pushing it. Not now, not with the baby coming.
Oh, here's something I forgot about late pregnancy: insomnia! I remember having trouble sleeping with Henry, but I thought it was due to really sore hips and really bad heartburn. There's a little heartburn with this one, and some discomfort lying down. Oh, and the restless leg syndrome, which is some sort of preview of hell. But mostly it's just that once I'm up--to pee, to change Henry's soaked diaper, to shove Simon over for snoring--I'm just up.
So I am exhausted.
On the bright side, I've been doing a lot of reading. Nothing like a good murder mystery at 4 a.m. I recommend anything by P.D. James.
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