So we’re potty training.
I know. It came as a surprise to me too.
I knew I wanted to potty train Colin this summer just because it was summer and we had time. I had friends who told me to do the three day potty training method because it worked, so I had plans to read up and then perhaps over 4th of July, tackle the whole deal with Kase by my side.
I had the new superhero underwear. I would carefully choose bribes incentives the week before and we would talk up that potty! Er, all four of them! (Yes, we have two Baby Bjorn stand alone toilets, and then one Spiderman toilet ring and one Cars toilet ring. Options, as Rachel Zoe would say.) I would be ready to tackle the toddler and the toilet.
That is, until Kase decided to tackle it without me. To be fair, he just thought it would be cute for Colin to try and use the potty and wear his new underwear. And he got Cols so enthused about the idea that I turned to him and said, “So I guess we’re potty training, then?”
That was when my husband looked at me like I had eight heads.
“What do you mean?”
So yeah, we’re off to a great start.
Actually, we kind of are. You see, it turns out my son’s stubborness extends to potty training as well. His bull headed-ness knows no bounds. The first day, well half day, really, he had one accident. And we were outside eating, so no problem. Yesterday? My son went from 8am until 2pm without an accident. Mind you, he also never used the potty. But no accidents! We asked him if he needed to use the potty every 30 minutes, and he would politely tell us, “No ganks!” and well, that was perhaps accurate. But I will tell you, that boy took a 3 hour nap and filled that diaper as soon as we put him down. Never said he wasn’t smart.
As I type this morning? He is still sleeping. I really think he is milking all his time in his diaper- he knows when he comes downstairs he’ll be stripped naked and forced to refrain from going to the bathroom until nap time. Not really, of course, but I think that is how he is viewing this whole exercise.
And it’s not like he doesn’t have incentives. He’s got a mini light saber filled with M&Ms winking at him, enticing him, “Use the potty!” He insists on putting it within eye-sight when he is on his potty, almost like a focus object women in labor use. He clutched the box of cupcakes and lamented how much he wanted one. And we told him gently, “You can! Those are your special cupcakes for when you use the potty!” After which, he looked at them like they were, well, potty deposits.
So please. Send help. Send salty snacks and juice. No need to send M&Ms. I got those. Just please, send me help. I clearly don’t know what I’m doing.