It was a day of potty trials.
The twins in cloth diapers and Tristan in a pull up.
I had thought I wouldn't do cloth with the twins but after changing another of Tristan's stinky poop diapers I had a revelation: What if it was the cloth diapers that got Shayla potty training herself so early? If that was the case I would give it a go. (Anything that might help me from changing two sets of stinky 2 year old poops later on!)
The cloth diapering started out fine.
Tristan in pull ups... well not so much. That boy will only use the potty when he feels like it. And most of the time he is just too busy to bother taking a break to use the potty. We weren't trying too hard, just trying to get him excited about the 'big boy' pull ups and hoping that would help.
And to add to the day of potty trials, Clayton found a leak in the plumbing. The pipe that was in charge of taking our excretions away to the outside world. Yuck!
So he got on top of fixing that.
He locked the upstairs bathroom and went downstairs to take apart the pipe.
Meanwhile it got a little chaotic upstairs, compiled with a poopy cloth diaper. I need this door open I shouted. And then proceeded to open the door. But just before turning on the sink to rinse out the diaper, I thought, maybe I should check with Clayton and make sure I can actually still use the sink. As he had made it quite clear to everyone: Not To Flush The Toilet.
So I ran downstairs, like smart wife I am, to check first!
Thank goodness for husbands, because there was Clayton messing around with a poopy pipe. And just as I open my mouth to ask about the sink, we both here a flush.
Clayton jumps off the step ladder while helplessly shouting, Nooooooooo!
I shout, oh poooooooooop!
Water... not so clean water... starts gushing out the open pipe, onto the ceiling of the downstairs bathroom and down the wall.
We both run upstairs ready to explode on Shayla... even though it's all this smart women's fault, it's hard to think rational in a moment like that!
I round the corner first and see Tristan, pants down, washing out his potty in the sink.
'I peed Mommy! I poot!'
Thankfully, rational long term thinking comes back to me, 'Good job buddy! What a big boy!'
He was so proud of himself, rightful so.
And now Daddy has to re-do the whole downstairs bathroom!
*And thankfully he didn't actually poot or there would have been a turd sitting on the soggy downstairs bathroom ceiling as well!
(Turns out it's a good thing the flush happened as there was a horrible amount of mold all down the wall and ceiling that Clayton pulled out. That's right... all thanks this smart smart women! ;)