A Year Ago

After Stephen was born, I started keeping a journal for each of the boys (although I've been less and less frequent with the entries since the arrival of #3). The other day I was looking at back at what was going on a year ago, and it turned out to be one of the most mischievous events in the Hamill home history (to date).

I was 20-some-odd weeks pregnant with Matthew, and we had been working on potty training with Andrew (age 3 1/2) for a number of months. He had this strange habit of waking early in the morning to do #2, so at 5 am I hear him walking down the hall to the bathroom. In my fatigued state, I didn't give it much thought, even though a few minutes later I heard Stephen (age 2) join him.

Now to a person of clear mind, fully awake and functional it would have caused instant alarm to know that two young boys were in the bathroom alone; but remember, I was pregnant, it was early in the morning, and we had been battling various viruses for nearly 6 weeks (and would continue to do so for 4 more months).

I was in and out of consciousness, and while I had a vague thought flitting through my head that someone should check on them, it took a while to will my body out of the warm bed. Upon the hearing the sound of splashing, however, I was instantly awake and bolting (as fast as a preggo body can go) down the hall.

Oh, the sight that met my eyes: Andrew had indeed relieved himself. Then someone had thrown the wet diaper he had had on all night into the potty. Then someone had cleaned off the bathroom counter (toothbrushes, toothpaste, nail clippers, hairbrush, clean diapers) and disposed of everything in the toilet. Then they both had scoops from the bath that they were using to scoop out toilet water into the tub.

All I could say was "Go to your room," and my dear husband cleaned up the mess. It was a day that will live in infamy for sure.