As we start the second year of karate with Isaac, he has progressed at a rapid pace.  He was pretty uncoordinated when we started and now he is performing complex moves with ease.  As he has gotten more focused, he has also noticed that he has new abilities, like additional strength and flexibility.  His favorite parlor trick is to perform an almost perfect splits in blue jeans.  The kid is a flexible little gumbi.  But the thing that he was most excited about getting a chance to try out was being a helper/teacher for the little kids (there are kids as young as 3 at Isaac's karate studio).  

And this past Saturday he finally got his wish.  We arrived early, 15 minutes before the little kids class started and he got to go out to the teacher huddle where they talked about what they would be doing that class.  

Then after that he got to stand at the front of the class and helped other kids with their forms and techniques.  He walked around and spread encouragement, which was absolutely adorable.  He also did a lot of clapping and cheering as the little kids rolled, tumbled, and bumbled through their kicks and punches.  

Overall, I was very impressed.  He was, of course, super serious and very, very kind.  It was a big step and one I think Isaac really enjoyed.  Its the first time he has ever been teaching other people and I think he realizes just how awesome a responsibility and opportunity that is.  

Ethan loves chocolate.  It was probably one of the first twenty words he could say.  And he really really loves those tiny peanut butter cups from Trader Joes.  And so do I.  So when we had them last I would tease him (to both our delights) telling him they were "My Tiny Chocolates."  Well, he return the favor and would regularly grab them, whip away from me, and say in a loud and scary voice (or as loud and scary as a nearly two year old gets): MY TINY CHOCOLATES.

I would say this to him even after we had eaten all of the peanut butter cups.  My fear was that he didn't like it, but just gave me a reaction to give me reaction.  Then, two weeks after the chocolate cups were gone for no reason at all, he yelled at me at dinner: MY TINY CHOCOLATES!  And then he let out a huge giggle.  It was clear that he understood how to tease me and thus it is really his first joke.  Bianca, Isaac, and I howled with laughter which only made Ethan do it more and more.

Since then I was see him or he will catch my eye and we both let out a loud, rumbly "MY TINY CHOCOLATES!"  Here is a cute little video of the Beeth and I with our routine:

Bianca and I decided that as 2017 dawned that we'd start the long, messy process of potty training the Beethan.  And so, for the last time, the tiny potties have returned to our bathrooms.  Eventually we will move them to places Beethan prefers, but for now, they are going to be in the bathrooms.  

We have the whole range of things to roll out slowly so that Beeth gets ready--applause, potty books, the "Poop on Your Potty" song (which I made up and isn't all that complicated), and lots of encouragement.   The thing that strikes me as so odd is that this whole thing is a shift in labor that makes no sense from Ethan's point of view.  We do a good job keeping him in clean diapers and monitoring rashes, so really, what incentive does he have to assume a lifetime of work?  None, really.  We will, of course, bribe him, probably with toys or maybe food, but in the end, those remunerations are tiny in comparison to the amount of free labor that we get to pawn off on him.  Imagine the 10-20 minutes a day spent attending to diapers--changes, storage, and disposal--now add that up over 18 years, and it seems like outright theft that we persuade Ethan to do this with what will end up being a couple of Hot Wheels.  

This is the power of wanting to be a big boy, of wanting to be like "brudder," and in the end, of wanting to be independent.  It is a fascinating process, one that eventually leads to college and the like, and it all starts with a tiny potty.