Three's a Crowd

I am not ready.  I should be...but I'm not.  The twins are developing an extreme interest in the potty.  We now have two potty chairs, side by side, in the bathroom.  They like to sit on them.  They like that one of the potty chairs will sing a song about toilet paper.  Irelynn likes to be a tinkle-time mentor.

"Good job, Owen!  You go pee pee in the potty!  Don't forget the toilet paper!"

Early on, with the first children, I was very motivated to potty train them.  It was like a milestone...one of those odd skills that seem to bring out a competitive nature in parents.  I'm not sure why this is...however, I have even heard of parents attempting to potty train when they are small babies, by holding them over a sink or potty chair and making a sound resembling urine spraying into their ears.  I'm not kidding...there are books about it.  How this actually benefits the child, or the parent, I'm not sure.  My boys are 18-months...and I'm pretending not to notice that they like the potty.  The thought of training two boys at the same time is a little scary to me.  I'm not interested in the bragging rights....I find it much more impressive that Connor can actually choose and run apps on my Droid phone by himself, or that Owen can open the baby gate (when most adults can't) and count out the exact number of packages of fruit snacks to offer one to each sibling plus himself.  I mean, honestly...even the older boys (yes, I said boys) have yet to learn to properly aim when it comes to going in the potty. 

However, this new fascination, I'm afraid, cannot be ignored much longer.  It is prompting one of my boys to strip naked (or have Irelynn "help") and it is making the bathroom a new source of inspired naughty antics.  Upon changing laundry loads this morning, which could not have taken more than a couple of minutes, tops, I look around to find no children anywhere.  No sounds.  Nothing.  This is one of those moments where my heart starts pounding...because I realize two very important things...one, wherever they are, they are all together (upping the ante on whatever mischief they might be causing,) and two, they will be causing some sort of mischief.  I see the light on under the bathroom door.  I slowly open it.

On one potty chair sits Irelynn, who I'm assuming came in to use it and forgot to shut the door.  On the other potty chair is Owen...naked.  Both rolls of toilet paper (we always have an extra one in there) are completely unrolled and covering the floor.  Standing on the actual toilet is Connor...with a toothbrush in one hand...licking the mirror.  I look at Irelynn.

"Owen had to go potty."

Although Owen did not, in fact, go potty...I still tried my best to remain positive, as I'm afraid upseting them might deter the future training process.  My little mirror-licker, however, was given a firm, "NO, NO!"  to which he grinned and repeated, "NO NO!"  I removed both boys from the room (with Owen singing the chorus to All the Single Ladies,) and cleaned up the toilet paper, calmly explaining to Irelynn that is Mommy and Daddy's job to help the boys go potty. 

I guess it's time. 

I'll tell you one thing, though...I will completely freak out the day I walk in on Connor taking a dump while he's inevitabley texting on my phone.  Then I can truly say he is just like his father.  Hmmm...perhaps his father should be the one doing the training....