It is, it's just all too much. I am BEYOND happy to say that JD has gotten over himself and is once again fit to be seen in Polite Company. I spent the month of February channeling my inner Gunnery Sergeant as we both went through what can only be described as Basic Training for Preschoolers. I was pretty sure it would be a winner-take-all death match, but we both actually came out alive. And we BOTH now get ourselves dressed and undressed (by our own selves), sit at the table to eat meals, clean up after ourselves, take responsiblity for our own belongings, use Polite Words and Indoor Voices (most of the time), and, most importantly, Put Our Poops in the Potty, Where They Belong.
Honestly, I am so proud of him, I could burst. It's not just the pooping thing (although, BOO-YAH, it's so Fucking Awesome to not have to wipe his giant smelly shits off his no-longer-even-remotely-like-a-baby ass OMG disgusting). It's everything. He actually acts like a person, a normal, self-sufficient, capable person. And he's proud of himself, too. It's too much to try to put up here, it's been too long undocumented, and it's probably best left that way anyway. February was a rough time. The whole winter pretty much bit. We had tough times together. But now it's through, and we made it through. Like I told him during Boot Camp, I'd never ask him to do anything he couldn't do. I always believed in him and knew he could do it. It's just so nice that he finally is.
My blog is out of date; my writing is rusty; I am overwhelmed with so much that I wanted to say but didn't and now it's too late. My Matty-Fatty lifts my days and fills up my heart like you can't imagine and yet has barely even had a shout-out here; I love him, I love him, I love them both so, so dreadfully, awfully, terribly much.
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