Seymour prodded me awake this morning, reminding me that it was my morning to get up with Leelo. Our early waking boy was already audibly stomping down the stairs by the time I scrambled out of bed; by the time I opened our door and spotted him, he was all the way into the kitchen, singing Ram Sam Sam at the top of his lungs. With hand movements! The whole song!
He was also buck naked.
I escorted him back to his room, where I discovered a completely poo-full pullup sitting on his floor, on top of his pajamas. But Leelo did not smell, and there were no smears or puddles on himself, his bed, his sheets, the floor, or his pajamas. Not even his bottom was befouled. All the actual solids were completely contained within the pullup, and bundled up tidily.
I took him into the bathroom to dispose of the stinky package and give him a scrub anyhow; he ran to the potty ahead of me, and emptied what appeared to be a full bladder.
So, somehow Leelo manaaged to extricate himself from a poopy pullup without getting himself or anything dirty except the pullup itself, while holding an overnight bladder for a full fifteen very active minutes after waking up.
This is a boy who is increasingly comfortable, skilled, and in touch with his body. Go Leelo go.
In other news, this afternoon I am having a party to sell off the five hundred or so pieces of Tuareg jewelry my Malian friend somehow thought I should peddle for him. At least it's an excellent excuse to invite all my friends over and feed them and get them drunk while playing Holiday Hostess.
I really don't know what I'm going to do with any leftover jewelry; I checked out prices on eBay and such, and Tuareg jewelry is undervalued, plus the effort of selling such trinkets on eBay is not worth my time. Sigh. At least I know what all my female friends and relatives are getting for Xmas.