Potty Patrol: The Good, the Bad, and the Awkward

File this under TMI.

Now that Luke's become such a water worm, he is pretty much taking baths by himself.  Aside from the fact that it's getting a bit weird to bathe with my toddler, he splashes, fills the tub with his toys, wants to wash my hair, and hides the soap.  I've kind of just been missing my relaxing baths, too.

So tonight while Jeff was still at work I bathed Luke, keeping the water to reheat and reuse for my own bath (How green am I?!?).  When Luke fought me on putting on his clothes, I decided I'd try an experiment.  How's the kid ever going to potty train if he never goes without a diaper?  I know you've all read the stories about our potty training efforts....

I told Luke that he could leave his clothes off, but if he needed to peepee (or worse, #2), he needed to go in his potty and not on the floor.

I was halfway through my own bath when I saw Luke in the small toilet room (What ARE those rooms called?), sitting on the big toilet, with his training seat (He had actually managed to position the seat and crawl up there himself. Go Luke!).  He usually uses his little potty that sits on the floor.  He had such a look of determination and pride on his face that I figured it was best to let him have his moment and congratulate him later.  So I watched quietly.  And with shampoo in my hair.

Good for Luke!  He not only used the potty, he used the BIG potty!

Except, wait.  Because not much in our house has a nice clean, happy, easy ending these days...

I saw him reach back to flush the toilet.  Good manners, too!  Yes!

Then the bad happened.

Luke leaned over to watch the toilet flush--while still sitting on the toilet.

The next thing I knew, Luke was flipping over himself, head first, onto the floor.

And I was still sitting there watching, with a head full of lathered-up shampoo.  AWKWARD!!!

What to do?  Think quick.  I already mentioned Jeff wasn't home to yell to.  And there my child was, on his back, in the little toilet room, wedged between the toilet and the wall, after having just fallen on his head/neck.

My choices were abundant and limited:

• Run to his rescue.  Of course, the EMTs might have to come, and I'd be there, naked, with shampoo in my hair, holding my woefully broken child.
• Let him lay there until I finished my bath.  If he got up it meant he wasn't hurt that much.
• Jump out of the bathtub to save him, but slip and fall and break my own neck.  What a sight that would be for Jeff when he came in.  Headline:  Wife and son drowned in bathtub/potty massacre.

In the end, I did what any mother would do.  I jumped out, ran after my child, hugged him, examined him for broken parts, asked him if he was okay, kissed him, etc., etc. 

Then (after I determined there was no obvious damage) I got back in the bathtub to finish my own relaxing (Ha!) bath. 

Calgon, take me away!