Wittle Boy

Rusty is adamant about things.  I could call it stubborn but then fingers might be pointed at a certain parent from whom he might possibly have inherited that trait, so we’ll just call him adamant.

He likes blue.  Blue alone.

He wants goldfish crackers.  None of those round or square crackers.  Goldfish ones.

Poppy is his friend.  NOT Momma.

Kevin started the potty training process with Rusty a few weeks ago.  It is perhaps my least favorite part of the parenting journey (thus far).

To encourage Rusty, we’ve used those common phrases many parents use in this same situation,”Good job, Rusty!  You can use the potty!  What a big boy!”

And then we meet his adamant, every-single-time reply,

“No!  I not big boy!  I wittle boy!”

He isn’t being adamant that he can’t use the potty … simply on what we are allowed to call him.

According to Rusty, Ricky and Billy are “big kids” and he and Tommy are “wittle kids.”

Good to know.