Potty Training: Not For the Faint of Heart

Thus begins the saga of potty training. Something I have been dreading since John was 10 months old and I sat waiting for my Body Pump class to start at the YMCA overhearing a gang of 4 women lamenting the burdens and struggles of potty training their kids. I decided then this would probably be one of the worst parts of parenting.

Because of that traumatizing conversation I have not been one to really push this theme. Changing diapers (to me) is way easier than scouring every place I go for the nearest restroom and keeping one nervous eye on my child. I'm really ok with diapers and at this age you don't have to change too many poopy ones per day.

My pediatrician and many other friends have suggested that boys tend to be ready around age 3 and with Anna being in the 0-12 month range this past year I just let the whole thing slide......until recently.

Now that someone with the initials J and T and B is about to turn three (in May) I have noticed that most activities require kids to be potty trained so I am more interested in getting this thing knocked out.....especially before the next school year.

I was recently lamenting with a friend that we wished we could take our kids to some "potty specialist" and have them housebroken for us. How wonderful would that be? Call me lazy but I would pay for that. Now I am no potty training expert so I am definitely not advertising anything that I do because I don't know what I'm doing, friends. I don't at all. This is fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants style. And the Number One issue is still quite a problem. Lots and lots of accidents here.

I haven't gone the "no diapers in the house" route. No siree. There are still plenty of diapers around. We use them when we go out and at nap time and pretty much any other time we're not at home doing nothing. We have let him run around the house in underwear. The problem with this is that he doesn't like to wear just underwear with no shorts (easier clean up for me). So the other day I had to convince him to go sans pants by taking off my own pants. We hung out in our t-shirts and underroos together. Hey, it worked. And thankfully no Fed-Ex or Orkin man or neighbor came to the door to question our minimal attire.

Where we have made progress is the Number Two arena. This one has been easier and I am so thankful I haven't had to clean up that kind of mess.....yet.

I bid you farewell and a ceremonious salute as I march onward for the cause of acheiving diaper freedom!