Potty training has taken over our lives. Saturday morning we put Manu in his big-boy underwear and haven’t looked back. No pull-ups. No night-time diapers. It’s been +72 hours and we’re all stressed. I think we’re on the right track, but I’m not sure. This is all unchartered territory for us. I’ve said “poopy present” more times than I can count and done more loads of laundry in 3 days than I normally do in a month. Frankly, it’s my least favorite parenting duty(doodie?) to date . I think it’s because ultimately I’m not the one in control here. I love being in control. I hate not knowing how long it will take. I hate knowing that as much as we’ve prepared him and eased him into this process, he’s confused and frustrated.
It takes whole lot of energy from us too. We’re at our parenting best when he’s on the potty. We’re cheering, reassuring, singing songs and reading books. We’re all smiles when all we really want to do it throw in the towel for the day and deal with the mess in the morning. It takes a lot.
Whenever I start to get caught up in how trying this is, I try to remember how far he’s come in only 3 days. He tells us know when he thinks he has to go. Sometimes he’s a little too late but he’s trying. He’s had a number of successful potty trips and 2 dry nights. That’s all good stuff.
Sigh. He’ll get there. We’ll get there.