I live in terror of seeing him walk towards me with his feet 2 feet apart, trying to avoid touching the giant, dark circle of pee in the center of his pants.
I can't wait for the next time I get to try to take his poopy underpants off without globs of feces rolling out onto the floor.
There is nothing scarier for me right now than leaving the house with him.
On Thursday, after saving it up for three days Forrest finally pooped. In his pants. At my friend Summer's house.
On Friday, while eating his reward popsicle for pooping in the toilet, Forrest pooped his pants.
However, I strive to be a positive person so I am considering our potty training a success so far because the number of times he has peed in the toilet outnumbers the times he has gone in his pants.
By far the best advice I have gotten was from my dad:
"Whatever you do just don't start braggin' him up because then he will end up crapping his pants at the Arctic Circle."