This is from December 19, 2006

Miles peeped in the toilet on the child toilet seat adapter thing yesterday.

For weeks he’s been pointing at his crotch, and when he does, I jump up and say “Peepee on the toilet?” to which he responds by violently shaking his head no.

Yesterday I fell for the same trap again. I jumped and he said no.

And then I can’t recall what happened.

I somehow asked again, or maybe he pointed again, but I took off his diaper and carried him half-naked down the stairs to the bathroom equipped with a baby toilet seat and sat him on it.

And for a moment he paused.

He pulled at his scrotum. I could only think about testicle descent and how they both seemed to be present.

And then he grunted and peepee came out of his penis and I rejoiced. At 21 months, this was the first time he start-to-finish peepeed on the toilet.

When Miles exhausted his abdominally strenuous, pee-making efforts, I re-diapered him and whisked him to the kitchen. I inverted a can of Reddi-Wip into his favorite bowl and created three mountains of whipped cream. When he finished, I refilled the bowl. If Maggie Moo’s had been open (closed on Mondays and Tuesday in our town for winter) we would have celebrated with ice cream too.

I called my husband, the sister who gave us the potty accessory, my mother-in-law, another sister, and my best friend. I told neighbor Rich who I bumped into while taking out the garbage. I emailed the news to a former co-worker. I called another sister later that night.

What a great day.

This morning Miles let me clip all ten of his fingernails as we sat at the computer. Last week he let me clip all ten of his toenails as I fed him PBJ.

He is growing up. My little son is growing up.