Sunday, November 15, 2015

The boy we call Quinn

Life with this one is too fast. It breaks my heart and makes me smile at the same time. We just had this conversation waiting for our boys to get out of school.  Me:  hey, I think you are pretty cool.  Him: I know.  I am pretty cool.  This shirt and these

This third child of mine is a different kind of kid.  When I say, "I love you!" he replies with, "No.  I love Grandma!"  When we talk of his grandma's he gets confused.  My mom is here, in the flesh.  Ross parents are serving a mission so Grandma Connie only appears ocassionaly via Skype.  We often have conversations about grandma's that go:

"I have two grandmas.  Grandma Judy and the white haired one.  What's her name again?"

I say, "Grandma Connie.  Grandma Connie is dad's mom and Grandma Judy is my mom."  He replies with, "No I want her (I think her is plural in his mind for both grandmas) to be my mom."

He says lots of funny things, none of which I can remember right as I'm typing.  He has....


I started writing this post about Quinn a couple of weeks ago.  I never finished it.  Now I'm to tired to even try and think about what I was gong to write in the first place.

Since that time though, we have accomplished something that I really never thought would be a reality.  This kid finally pees in a toilet.

It took almost three months of work and fighting; trying and then taking a week or two off and trying again; and several periods of 24 hours where nothing came out of his body except maybe a booger or two (can you believe that this little boy could go 24 hours without peeing?).  But!  BUT, one day, nearly three weeks ago it clicked and he's never looked back.  Not an accident, not a slip up, not a problem!  He has been wearing pull ups, I think mostly because they are like a security blanket but he finally chose to graduate to the Captain America big boy pants and no one could be more proud of Quinn than Quinn.

No more diapers.  I've spent the last nearly 9 years changing someone's diaper with only a 4 month reprieve between Wyatt turning three and Quinn being born.  That's a lot of stinky butts in my general direction.  It's quite the accomplishment and I'm happy for both of us.

"Mom!  I fink I need to go pee!" - never a happier phrase than that one kiddo.


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