Picture to follow. Keohi given a huge piece of watermelon. He eats it, very messily, of course, thoroughly relishing every little bite.
"I wash my hands," he announces. He looks at me and starts pointing and wagging his index finger. "No, no, no. I wash my hands. BY MYSELF."
I hear him scramble onto the too high wash basin countertop. The thump against the door. The scrape of the stool against the tile floor. I can barely spit it the sink myself. It's some messed up architectural nightmare. Normally, everything is short and compact here. Made for 19th century heights and diets devoid of anything to increase one's height. In short, (no pun intended) for folks like myself at a towering 5'1". But our sink basin is all off. Now that I've been studying things like sink basin heights, I can tell you that at 39" it is way too high...
So Keohi climbs up, turns on the faucet. Comes down and out of the bathroom.
"I WASH MY HANDS." His face is covered in pink slushy watermelon. His shirt is drenched in juice. But indeed yes, his hands are clean.
"Very nice, Keohi." I'm really pretty happy about this. I wonder if it will translate into using the toilet anytime soon.
Keohi is downright ANTI-TOILET. I've decided, well at least for a while, to let it go, having had his godfather Andrew tell me the story of his son. Apparently he announced one day that he would simply no longer wear diapers, and never did again. This was maybe at 3 years 2 months or so. Keohi can recite the entire book about Joshua and the potty by heart, and frequently does, but used his pink potty as a helmet until very recently.
I try to ask Keohi if he wants to use the toilet. Randomly he does. We've come a long way since last year. Last year he cried last year when he watched his poo go down the toilet. Stephen tried to tell me that it was a part of him that was disappearing down a mysterious hole, that Keohi was attached to his poo. Some other scatalogical psychological whatever. Keohi's feeling about toilets and flushing have since shifted since last summer's scandalous TRAIN DOWN THE DRAIN incident. Flush. Toss. Mom shock. Keohi surprised. Yep, the toilet works. I will not say anymore...but if one should see a small blue cargo car in the Pacific, it's probably from a Mui Wo toilet.
He wants to flush every opportunity he can. Flushing is the motivation behind using the toilet. But mostly, he likes hanging out if someone else is on the toilet and then running over and trying to push his way to the toilet tank and yell: "PRESS THE SILVER BUTTON. I WANT TO PRESS IT."
"No. The only people who get to press it are the ones who do the pee pee in the toilet." I hope this will inspire him to use it.
"Press?"
"No. Mommy will press it. Mommy went to the toilet."
"PRESS." A mad quick press and he laughs and runs out of the room. Who knew that flushing could bring such happiness? It's really hard to be a toilet killjoy.
But pressing the silver button seems to be as far as it goes. I try asking him if he wants to use the toilet. He tells me "NO I GO PEE PEE ON THE LAWN."
"No, how about peeing in the toilet?"
"NO PEE OUTSIDE DOWN THE DRAIN! PEE PEE ON THE TREE. PEE PEE ON THE BED."
"No, not on the bed, not on the tree, not down the drain." I feel like a Dr. Suess book, really.
And so the argument continues.
Then usually later, after running around sans diaper a bit, if it doesn't end up with him peeing on the floor, carpet, bed or whatever, he announces: "I want a disposable, please." Or maybe: "I like the cloth diaper. The disposable is itchy. NO. I do not want to wear undies. Diaper. Just diaper." I figure anyone who can discuss which type of diapers he prefers to wear should be out of diapers. I try asking him if he wants to wear his dinosaur underwear. Nope. He puts on the diaper. "Snuggy. Fix it, please. I have snuggy." He waddles off happily in his diaper.
I'll try again in another month.
A Poem by C.K. Williams
1 day ago
