I am so proud of Ezra for being such a great supporter for Eli, he was a little cheerleader as he stood outside the bathroom door and fistpumped for Eli every time he tried the potty.
There was a moment where I had just finished feeding Oliver and Ezra was begging to mark something off his responsibility chart, so I had him help me with making his bed and getting dressed. While I am helping him, I got a whiff of something.... ELI! I caught him pooping his pants while he stared at his potty charts. I grabbed him and carefully tried to roll his messy underware down his leg trying not to smear the mess everywhere. I failed. I sat him on his potty and as I tried to clean his messy underware in the toilet, all while hearing Ezra laughing hysterically at Oliver. (This usually means he is up to something--) I peeked at Ezra and Oliver to find that Ezra was squeezing Oliver's nose shut and as Oliver would gasp for air and turn purple, Ezra would crack up. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I scolded Ezra as I held a wet pair of poopy underware and looked back at Eli to see he is smearing his poopy bottom all over his potty chair. I continued to yell at Ezra from the bathroom and grabbed Eli and put him in the tub and washed him up as fast so I could keep an eye on each of the boys. Then I disinfected the potty chair, because THAT was absolutely disgusting. It was in this hot mess of a moment that I thought how grateful I am for my mom and for teaching me to do things for myself and for not giving up. Not just potty training. But all things! Life is not easy and teaching and guiding children to not have accidents (or mistakes in their lives) is exhausting. But as mother's, we do the best we can and pray that Heavenly Father will meet us half way. Because I know he does.
Marshall came home and I immediately told him to suit up. He was in the ring. I made dinner and he manned Eli. It was weird to have a moment to breathe and to do something besides stare at Eli or clean up a mess.
As with most Mondays, I am so so grateful for Tuesdays.