Kill Me Slowly
Well, for Day 1, I don’t suppose we did too badly. She tinkled in the potty three times,
on my couch once, and on the kitchen floor once. Oh yeah, and she left a package on my bathroom
floor. Beyond that, she was in pullups (naptime) or swim diapers (at my 5-year-old’s end of school pool party). Which is a post in and of itself. Suffice it to say, my 2-year-old definitely takes after my husband’s side of the family when it comes to the water. No fear sums it up nicely.
On the potty training front, I am figuring out her patterns and her signals, so the learning curve is slowly diminishing. I realize that I’m probably making my life unnecessarily miserable by forcing the issue. The wait-until-they-take-the-initiative strategy worked beautifully with my middle child, and there’s no pressing reason why I’m not taking the same approach this time. I’m just ready to get it over-with, it’s a good time of year to work on it, and what I save in diapers I can spend at the mall. Or more likely on the rising gas prices.
At any rate, I’m going to give it a week, and if we aren’t making progress, then I will reassess. Meanwhile, I feel like I live in a sewer. Thank goodness we invested in a steam cleaner when we bought this house. It has already been put to good use this week.
I have invested in the thick training pants (which, by the way, she was wearing when she saturated my couch, if that gives you any indication as to how much liquid she consumed while she sat in front of the TV yesterday morning), M&Ms, juice, urine neutralizing spray, and a bountiful stash of wine and Mikes Hard Lime. Okay, I’m kidding. My friend Kim loaned me the spray. (You didn’t think I was kidding about the bountiful stash, did you? Surely you know me better than that.)
Any-who. I’m all geared up for another day of sitting by the potty chair, watching Barney, and waiting for a pint-sized geyser to erupt. Wish me well.