We had a nice night – “we” being Jessica, myself, Namine, Auntie Chyral (who can once again go by her real name now that Namine can say it), and our neighbors (Leah, Mike, and their daughter Alyssa). When Chyral and I arrived at my apartment this evening after work, the cookie-making session was already in full swing.

I pretty much stayed in the kitchen myself, trying to keep out of everyone’s way, lending a hand where I could. (This included doing the dishes, but also the occasional pulling cookies from the oven.) I stuck my head into the living room from time to time, just to watch my girls making cookies. The first time I did so, as soon as Namine saw me she said, “No, Haha! Go back in the kitchen!” I guess I know where I’m wanted. But as soon as I ducked back into the kitchen, she called to me, “Haha, where you going?” Make up your mind already, child! I kid, I kid.

For dinner, Jessica made some roast thing. I dunno, it was made of meat and it was delicious. I made some rice (yes, it was the “instant” kind – what, you think I can cook?) and green beans (frozen) to accompany the meat, and we ate a lot. At 1:00 in the morning, I’m still kind of full. We watched the movie “Up” while we ate (even having seen it umpteen times, I cannot keep from tearing up during the beginning).

After dinner, we ate some cookies. I had some plain sugar cookies in the freezer, so Namine and I shared a bunch of those. There were several shapes, which Namine enjoyed identifying and then eating. I took one of the circle-shaped cookies into the kitchen and came back with a moon-shaped cookie. (This was a win-win: I got to eat half of Namine’s cookie, and she got a moon-shaped cookie. If you know anything about Namine and the moon, then you know that this might have been the absolute highlight of her night, to be given a moon cookie by her Haha.)

Okay, kids, it’s gross-out time. At least, it might be if you are easily offended or just plain dislike the poop-talk. But let’s be frank – this blog is about a three year old, and part of that life is potty training.

Later in the evening, after dinner and desert, I gave Namine her bath. I usually wash her up first and then let her play for a while. I used to let her play first and then wash her, but after a couple, um, “accidents,” I made the decision to wash her first, just in case. It turns out that Namine still has the occasional problem pooping (despite all the doctors’ assurances about how the hernia repair would fix all her problems, and she still needs to take what Namine calls “milk mag-nee-sah”), but one thing that seems to help is sitting in warm water.


Tonight, shortly after finishing washing her up, she stopped in the middle of playing and said to me, “Haha, I need to poop.” She thought about it for a moment. “I don’t wanna poop in the bathtub.”

How very thoughtful. But there is something deeper here that my sarcasm would hide; Namine recognizes that although it would be easier to let it out than to wait until she’s sitting on her toilet, it is better to hold it and wait. And there is also the glimmer of hope that we have thus far dared to have: that Namine, despite the CRS and all the mysteries it holds, perhaps can exercise control and is capable of “holding it.”

I asked Namine if she could wait until we got her out and dried off. She replies, “Um, well, okay, Haha.” I got her out and dried her off as quickly as I could. Then I sat her on her potty. I was thinking at the time that perhaps she didn’t need to poop; after all, there have been times before when she’s said she needed to poop, but never did. I needn’t have wondered; it was a doozy. I shan’t say more on that topic.

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