Probably one of the coolest things about observing a child grow up is seeing them learn. When they figure stuff out all by themselves, the look of pride on their faces is just delectable. I remember the time C took her first wobbly steps. Even though she didn’t actually know where she was going, she sensed that she was on to something big. There was no stopping her.
Most of those big baby milestones are behind us now. She walks, she runs, she feeds herself, she can talk, and (knock on wood) she’s on a 12 step plan to be off the pacifier. But despite the fact that she’s no longer a baby per se, she makes big realizations and strides in her understanding of the workings of the world every day.
Take yesterday, when she realized that pooping is just like a camp fire.
(Consider that your warning that I’m going to talk about poop from here on out. Might want to go read another blog if that’s not cool.)
We have a fire pit in our back yard, and this fall we’ve been enjoying it a lot. Last night, as we sat by the fire, C looked at me intently.
“Mommy, I hava poo-poo accident.”
We went inside where I stripped her dirty underpants off of her and cleaned up the mess. We talked about the poop.
(We talk about the poop a lot.)
“I’m really glad you told me right away that you had an accident. You’re such a big girl, and even if you can’t make it to the potty every time, I’m glad you told me right away that you needed to get cleaned up.”
“Yea, I tell you and Daddy about poop.”
“Right before you had your accident, did your body feel differently? Like you needed to push the poop out of your bottom right then?”
“How about the next time you feel that way, instead of pushing right away, you say, ‘Mommy, Daddy, I need to go potty now!’? Then, we’ll all run run run to the potty and you can push the poo-poo out there instead of in your pants.”
“Yeah! I can push the poo-poo out in the potty and be a big guwl!”
By then, the situation (read: her bum) was cleansed and we headed back outside. B had put another log on the fire. We all noticed that there was moisture dripping out of both of its ends.
Being a two-year-old, C was inquisitive.
“Wha’sat coming out of da wood?”
We explained that since the middle of the log had gotten so hot, it was pushing out all the water that was trapped inside of it. And that’s when the neurons started firing.
“THE WOOD IS HAVING A POO-POO JUST LIKE ME AND PUSHIN DA WATER OUT LIKE A POTTY!!!!!!”
Why, yes, little girl, it is. It is pooping just like you.
Life lessons all over the place over here.
Is it weird that I’m oddly more proud of her for making that connection than I was about her learning to walk? I feel like it’s this kind of free association that will lead us towards a cure for cancer or something.