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Elbow deep in the training...

Potty training, that is.
A week and a half ago I was fed up. Completely done with changing diapers on both of my children, when one was so obviously old enough to not still be in them.
Let me back up.
I like to think that I'm a pretty patient person, all things considered. I love my kids and I don't lose my cool very often. But even the thought of beginning the whole potty training process terrified me. No wonder JP was so tense about the whole thing. I was dreading cleaning up messes on the floor and, I was convinced, on the walls, in the carpet and on every toy in the toy box. I had horrific visions of him going Picasso on the living room walls with excrement. And forget about going anywhere, whether it be visiting relatives or grocery shopping.
I had heard horror stories of children still peeing everywhere after weeks, nay, months of rigorous trips to the potty every 30 minutes without success. We were starting to make some real progress until my daughter was born. Then all the interest went right out the window.
He went from wanting to use the potty and having success half the time to not wanting to even talk about the potty. Every time I brought it up, I was met with a sobbing fit and a barrage of "NOOOOOOO, MOMMY!!!!" 's . Really? there's nothing that warrants those dramatics, my love. (Have I mentioned that I speak to my children as if they are my age?)
I tried everything to jump start his interest again. I put underwear on him during the day, which resulted in me cleaning the floor. A lot. (Thank sweet baby Jesus for wood flooring.) I took him out right after Z was born and let him pick out a potty. (of course he picked on that plays music when used correctly) He was more interested in pushing the button to make it play then peeing in it to achieve the same result. We tried an M&M jar in the bathroom, cookies, use of his favorite application on my phone and cherrios in the toilet (in a word : bribery) with zero result. Every time I bought a package of pull-ups, I felt like I was dying a little on the inside.
For weeks, I kept telling JP that we were going to take a few days and knock it out, but I kept chickening out. Every underwear day resulted in me cleaning up 3-4 puddles and, exasperated and exhausted, throwing in the towel. Literally and figuratively.
I honestly can't remember what was the last straw. I think I finally just realized how silly it was to stress out over something that was inevitable. After all, how many high school students do you know who are still in diapers? Some kids are trained by 2, and with others it happens much later. It's like stressing out about when your child will roll over for the first time. Or sit up, crawl, or walk. The "right time" is different for everyone.
We started off the day in underwear (not the kind with the extra padding), which resulted in 2 puddles. I was starting to get really frustrated (not at JP, just at the situation) and instead of saying "Grab me a pull-up", what actually came out was "We're doing this! It's happening today!" JP almost looked nervous.
I then decided to try what several moms had suggested: he went naked. He was only bottomless for an hour when he had his one and only naked accident. He peed for maybe a second and the splash on his feet and ankles completely freaked him out. He stopped himself and ran to the potty! We had success!
Since then, we have had a few wet accidents and more than a few "code brown" accidents. The thing I keep telling myself is that accidents happen. It's inevitable. Stressing about it only gives you an extra problem: stress.
The good news: the last wet accident (other than at night) was on Wednesday. We were on a playdate with my BFF and her 2 kiddos when JP didn't make it to the potty on time. He hated it that he had to stop everything and hang out in the bathroom with mom for minutes... MINUTES to get cleaned up. I think that was the moment it finally clicked. YAY!
He's started to progress on his own. Wednesday he went at his Granny's house in the big toilet. And came home with a dry pull-up.
My little buddy is such a rockstar.

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