Yesterday I was at the grocery store and I got a call from Owen’s school. Usually a call from that number means Owen is being sent home sick or there was an accident they want to warn me about before pick-up (read: Owen has some huge gash across his face because he jumped off of something on the playground, etc.), so I always cringe when I pick up. But this time was different.
Owen’s teacher said, “Owen, do you have something exciting to tell Mommy?”. His little voice got on the phone and said, “I WENT PEE PEE ON THE POTTY AT SCHOOL!”. His pride was palpable. My 39-week pregnancy hormones got the best of me and I was wiping tears from my eyes in the cereal aisle as he told me what a big boy he was and how he was ready to wear underwear all the time at school.
As you may remember, he made the decision to be in underwear at home many months ago. The switch went off and he was jazzed about his Thomas the Train underwear and that was that. No pushing or prodding from my side. He just… decided. But, he also decided at that time that he WOULD NOT go at school. No sir. He came up with every excuse in the book as to why not. Recently we had gotten to the point where he said he would go “when the baby comes out” because then he’d “be bigger, like a big brother”. I was cool with that timeline, since I wanted the decision to be his and his alone, and not to be a deadline I was pushing. And he’s not even 3 yet, so I felt like we had lots of time for him to come around to this particular milestone.
But then yesterday he woke up from his nap dry (which he almost always does now… maybe that means we’re almost ready to move onto Phase 2 of potty training? I have no idea. For now I’m sticking with diapers for sleep time so that we’re not asking too much of his little body) and his teacher asked him if he wanted to go on the potty. He politely declined. Then she said that if he DID go on the potty, he could call Mommy and tell her the exciting news. That changed his mind entirely, and he went on the potty all by himself and couldn’t wait to call me.
And so, just like that, I feel like we’ve entered a new phase. No more diapers (except while sleeping). Though I wouldn’t have pushed it just because a baby was on the way, I am pretty happy to have Owen’s latest milestone come right before the baby. One less thing to worry about.
Speaking of being on their own timeline… Baby #2 seems to have no interest in coming out to play. I’ve had all of the telltale “labor is coming” symptoms on and off for the last week, but still, no baby. I’m tired of working and tired of not being able to call anyone lest they think I’m in labor. Still, I am thankful that my body feels relatively good. But that is definitely waning. I can tell.
Two weeks ago (right around when I started saying, “Any minute now!”. Ha.) I got this fortune in my fortune cookie:
That has been my philosophy planning for this baby, and, more specifically, for the complicated situation that is going into labor with another kid at home. So far I’m doing really well on the first part (WE ARE SO PREPARED, COME OUT NOW, BABY) and really, really trying to also do the second part. It’s not in my nature, as a super Type A planner, but it’s also not in my control. There is something remarkably relaxing about that. Though I WANT this baby to come out, like, now, there isn’t a damn thing I can do to make that happen.
My fingers are still crossed that he’s going to come this week, though. Before his due date. Or his scheduled ejection date. I really don’t want to go that route.
But he’ll come in his own time.