And the Mother of the Year Award Goes tooooooo.....

As a mom of boys, you learn quickly that at some point during the diaper years, you're bound to get peed on.

With Noah, it happened before we even left the hospital.  He hit the wall, he hit us, he hit just about everything.  The nurse laughed, and showed us how to properly change a baby boy.

We were faster with Avery, and dodged his streams.  Ezra proved us more out of practice however, and even found Shawn with a handful of poo in the pediatrician's office at just a few days old.

Today was one for the books though, I'm sure.  It felt that way, anyway.

Ezra was constipated, so I plopped him on the potty, as that has helped him in the past.

I kneeled on the floor, held him around his waist, and we sat, forehead to forehead while I talked to him in a soft voice, and sang for a few minutes while he worked his problem out.

Then I felt it--a warm stream, right in my face.   Pee.  And lots of it.

I didn't even drop Ezra in the toilet.  I didn't flinch, and I managed to keep my composure.  Go me.  

Ezra pooped, and we both left the bathroom proud of ourselves (after I washed my face).

Mother.  Of.  The.  Year.