Tuesday, October 13, 2015

The P Word

So I did it.  I convinced myself that it was the right thing to do and now I am paying for it.  I can't go back.  I have to keep pushing forward.

I started potty training Cohen.



Excuse me while I scream and gouge my eyes out.

Is there anything worse than potty training?  Changing dirty, stinky diapers is way better than carefully removing, dumping, and rinsing out dirty, stinky underpants!

For awhile now, I've been thinking he was ready.  He was already asking to sit on the potty at times.  They were putting him on the potty at daycare on a regular basis.  He was telling me when he went so I could change him.  Classic "readiness" signs as outlined by the "experts."

Experts...they need to come hang out in my house and sit on the bathroom floor while holding a squirming, pissed-off two year old on the toilet.  All while trying not to get peed on.



Ainsley and Freddie were three or older when we really hit the potty training hard.  It was difficult, there were plenty of tears (mine) and tantrums (mine) and screaming (also mine)...but after about 2 weeks, I felt like we were pretty solid and the accidents quickly subsided.  It was around that two week mark that I felt like I could say "Yes, he/she is potty trained" and feel pretty confident that the child would let me know when he/she had to go.  I didn't feel the need to carry around an entire wardrobe and rolls of paper towels, just in case.

Well, we are on week three with Cohen, and though there have been wins...there have been lots of accidents, lots of extra clothes, lots of clean ups in public places.  I've never wanted to buy diapers so badly!

After a week, I was ready to throw the towel in.  I could not get him to sit on the potty for longer than 7 seconds.  During that time, he was able to dribble a little pee in the bowl and then proclaim "DONE!" and slide off the seat.  Just to run to the corner and pee and poop all over himself.

It was then that I decided we need to buy a little plastic potty.  Ainsley and Freddie had not used one.  They were older and taller when they potty trained.  But I bought one because his little toes barely brush the step stool when he sits on the big potty.



We had major success.  Not only was he more comfortable, now he could do it on his own and that is just what my stubborn, independent, third-born needed.  He could do it "BY MINE SEFF!!!"  That night, I finished my dinner and got up to find him standing over the little potty, Star Wars underpants around his ankles, bowl full of...everything, and him exclaiming "Yook Mommy!  I DID IT!"

I thought we were home free.  He lulled me into a false sense of victory and accomplishment.  I was feeling so proud of us.  We actually could potty train a child at a reasonable age.  The feeling was short lived.  Yesterday I threw away an entire outfit at a playground just moments after putting him on the potty.

So that's where we are.  He's definitely holding it and he's telling me about 30% of the time.  But I'm still asking regularly and hearing "NO, my already went" or "NO, I no yike potty."



Deep breaths.  Deep breaths.  This too shall pass.  And then we will be diaper free.  And it will be awesome.  It's just going to be a shit show (literally) getting there.
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