Simon had his first out-of-control, screaming hissy fit on Halloween, 2006.
He held up his head for the first time on Thanksgiving, 2006.
He took his first unassisted steps on Father’s Day, 2007.
He called his grandmother “Grandma” for the first time on Christmas Eve, 2008.
He climbed into his car seat for the first time on Mother’s Day, 2009.
Ever aware of the importance of timing, Simon finally told us he had to pee and went on his own on Mother’s Day Eve, 2010. He repeated the feat on Mother’s Day, and in the week hence, he has eagerly announced he has to go, and then gone, as often as he can get his poor bladder to comply. In fact, I think the only times he’s gone in his pull-up are during or in the early waking stages from sleep or when he’s been far from home. There are M&Ms on the line.
We’re not yet going directly in the potty at home, though he is going in the urinals at school. And we’re not yet ready to tackle poop. But we have clearly crossed a threshold from which there is—I hope!—no going back.
Better than the candy Matt bought me. Better than the flowers Simon made me in school. The uric cup now sitting on the back of the toilet is, indeed, the sweetest gift of Mother’s Day 2010.