He's taken to pooping in our closet. This is much better than it sounds - he is still wearing a diaper and the mess is contained. He, however, is hitting that stage where a little, uh, privacy is needed. Yesterday, as I made the bed and got ready, I watched as he bee-lined to our closet, very carefully slid the door shut, and gave me one last look like, "Hey Mom...pretend you're not seeing this."
I thought he had something in his mouth, so I followed him and cracked the door. He didn't have anything in his mouth, as he stood here, mouth agape, knees bent, face red. He looked up at me and I felt like I had completely interrupted a very private moment. He then burst into a big smile and declared, "Poo poo!" and gave him rump a hearty pat.
This morning, he did the same thing. I half-expected him to grab the USWeekly off the nightstand before he hit the closet. I followed him again, but before he had a chance to push, I asked him, "Are you making poo-poos?" He nodded yes. "Do you want to go on the potty?" He looked at me, looked over at the bathroom, and then said very certainly, "Yes. Potty."
See, I don't have a toddler potty seat. I don't have anything potty related, and the kid just called my bluff. I didn't expect him to say yes - I thought I had six more months to plan my attack. I would have to hold him over the seat while he dropped fecal matter in the toilet, and quite honestly, that sounded like a haz-mat situation in the making.
So I did what any good parent does in that situation: I stalled and then distracted him.
"What a good boy!" I said, gently taking him by the arm and steering him past the potty. "Let's go to your room and change your diaper...and then M&Ms!"
Looks like I know how's buying an Elmo-toddler potty this weekend.