The Victory Crown, Play by Play

ROUND ONE
5:40am: Mama? Mama? Mama!! coming from his room. Seriously? He cannot be waking up this early coming from my head.

5:43am: After a bleary-eyed bedside investigation, I find Cass soaked in pee. A wipedown. A speedy change of clothes and diaper. No time to for clean sheets. Must get him back to sleep in our bed before he notices the sun is coming up.

6:11am: Cass is still twirling my hair and whispering. Ryan is snoring. I am insanely jealous.

6:30am: Success! Cass is sleeping. (+1 for M)

7:34am: Up for the day. Regretfully, this is considered sleeping in.

8:30am: Cass insists on showering with me, even though he already showered with Ryan. I give in. (+1 for C)

9:00am: Cass looks adorable wearing his new Sesame Street underwear for the first time.

9:01am: While screaming like a tortured baby seal, Cass makes body-thrashing attempts to rips off Sesame Street underwear.

9:03am: Fierce negotiations ensue. I use my best-endlessly-patient-mom voice strategically paired with candyland promises of playgrounds, swimming pools and treats, while cass relentlessly continues down the tortured baby seal route, admittedly a far superior tactic.

9:11am: My eardrums implode. Cass wins by a landslide. (+3 for C)

ROUND TWO
10am: Emotionally recharged, begin preparations for meeting Liam (Cass' two-year-old partner-in-tantrum) and his mom at the pool. It occurs to me that I should not use pre-planned outings as potty-training carrots.

11am: Floatie strapped to body, Cass immerses self in freezing pool faster than my body adjusts to freezing temperature. Perhaps I need to mention one more time for impact: water is freezing. (+1 for C)

11:12am: Cass and Liam fight over toy. Tugging, then tackling, then intervention. They are separated and given two different toys.

11:15am: Cass and Liam fighting over toy. Tugging, tackling, pushing, screaming. Liam boinks Cass on the head. Cass' lower lip quivers and he announces between sobs, "Liam hit Cass, Liam hit Cass."

11:30am: Cass and Liam are swimming happily in opposite sides of the pool. Jennifer and I yell pieces of a broken conversation across the chlorinated water, which is still freezing.

12:30pm: After Cass devours his entire lunch poolside, he falls asleep in the car on the way home (+1 for M).

12:35pm: Carry my sleeping angel baby up to his room to discover his stripped, post-pee bed. I maneuver a top sheet over the naked mattress with one arm, trying to keep Cass' head balanced on my other shoulder. Almost there...

12:37pm: Cass wakes up, and immediately announces that he would like to use the potty. I recognize this as a stealthy stall tactic, but how can I refuse him a request to do what I've been begging him to do every day for three months? He even gestures to his Sesame Street underpants, as if he might consider wearing them, if only... (+1 for C)

12:39pm: Cass is sitting on the potty, and miracle of miracles: he trickles out some pee. He is promised a treat after his nap, which really only builds pre-nap excitement.

1:pm: I am downstairs, adding number 43 to my lengthy to-do list, while a pile of laundry tumbles through the wrinkle-free cycle for the third time. Cass is still playing/talking/giggling/whining from his bed. I ignore.

1:15pm: Cass is still awake.

1:35pm: I go up to see if he needs something, after his noises become increasingly irritated. He asks if he can take a nap in Mama's bed. Panicking about the possibility Cass will forego his entire nap, I am uncharacteristically willing to cater to sleep whims. I simply have too much to do today during his nap, I reason.

2pm: We both fall asleep in my bed. (-1 for M)

4:05pm: We both wake up.

ROUND THREE

4:15pm: Cass goes pee in the potty AGAIN (!), the memory of his pre-earned treat fuzzy from his two-hour nap.

4:25pm: Cass gets soy ice cream treat. (+1 for C) He eats it out of cardboard tub with a spoon, face covered with chocolate.

5:30pm: After a trip to the market, Cass plays golf in the backyard with Ryan, while I prepare delicious Cass-friendly tacos with peppers from our garden, beans and avocado.

6:15pm: Confused, Cass repeatedly calls the avocado kiwi, and I don't correct him after he plows through nearly an entire avocado. You see, for months, he has insisted he doesn't like avocado, which he actually loves.
(+1 for M)

7:30pm: Bedtime ritual begins.

8:01pm: Cass--clean, diapered, tiny teeth brushed and almost down for the count during Ryan's dramatic reading of Where the Wild Things Are, employs the final, unexpected blow: Go potty? (+1 for C)

8:07pm: Sitting on potty, Cass lets a few trickles of pee validate my spineless display of caving to such an obvious--and already used!--bedtime stall tactic. I should have seen it coming! Should have blocked it with a reverse move!

8:10pm: Laying in Cass' freshly-made bed, singing him the last song of the night--Twinkle Twinkle by his request--his little arm slides around my neck and he kisses my nose. I kiss Mama's nose, he says. I love you, Cass, I answer. I yuv you, too, Mama. I climb out of his bed and close the door, weightless, content and impervious to my to-do list. (+100 for M)

I win.