Return to Battle?

I thought it was a fluke the other day, the whole couch peeing incident following Collin's insistence that he wear underwear. I was wrong. Yesterday, when he got up from nap, not only did he insist that he not be put back in a diaper, but he actually went to the drawer, pulled out two pair and spent a good ten minutes deliberating about whether he should wear choo-choo underwear or car underwear. I wonder if he was debating which would make his butt appear larger, a locomotive or a sportscar?
Regardless, I let him wear underwear. And, I had a mild case of the shakes from post traumatic stress as I recalled the last time we tried this. Meanwhile, he plotted how to knock my socks off. Thirty minutes after putting his cutie-patootie underwear on, he dribbled a teeny-tiny bit and marched his little buns over to me to tell me "wet!" and then grabbed my hand to march me to the potty. Can I fault him for not knowing the precise way to hold it ALL the way just yet? No. A dribble is okay by me. He knew what to do. Hooray! The evening proceeded the same way. Three successful trips to the potty!

Then this morning, he insisted on underwear again. Three successful trips to the potty again before disaster struck. I left him alone for probably forty seconds to take the stink-o trash outside to the can. Considering it's about sixty paces from the door to the trashcan, I can't have been gone that long...just long enough for him to wonder where I was when he stood at the door to pee his pants. I comfort myself with the fact that he was waiting at the door for me when he did it; so I've convinced myself that he must've been eagerly trying to tell me he had to go. Forget the fact that I'd only asked him seconds before. It's a work in progress. Anyone who's done this process before, feels my pain. No, of course I don't have to go unless the urge is so strong that my bladder just might burst through my skin if you even so much as touch me.

Of course, poop is another story. Isn't it always? I'm still not so sure I'm ready for this battle to have begun again, but I'm not so sure I have a choice in the matter. I tried to put a diaper on him for nap time because I KNOW I'm not ready to wash sheets EVERY freaking day again and he about killed me with nun chuck legs and sass-mouth about not wanting his diaper. Reasoning with a two-year old about how he has to wear a diaper because he didn't empty his bladder before bed is pretty useless so I pinned him down with a good elbow to the neck of course. I'm preparing for this battle that I didn't ask for by eating way more girl scout cookies than I should. Good strategy, eh? They have got to be fortified with something. They make me feel better at least. Well, until I realize how many I've eaten.


P.S. Doesn't he look pleased with that toy? It's a repeat visit of one of the "poo-poo presents" he got from last time. We were evil and took them all away when he reverted back to diapers. We figured we could give them all to him again when we started over. He'd never know the difference. We were right! And, that potty is the best for anyone who has a boy! No pee spray anywhere and it doesn't scrape the little guy when they stand up!