Tomorrow morning will be the 5th day Manu has been out of diapers. Today was much like yesterday which is awesome: no accidents, collecting poopy presents like nobody’s business, and he even used the library bathroom’s urinal this evening because the stall was occupied. I don’t how long I should wait before declaring him “trained” but he’s definitely on his way. So let’s move away from the potty talk for a bit, yes? On to more important matter’s like my super-cute fall wardrobe.
Ok. I don’t really have a super-cute fall wardrobe. See, I’m not cute. I used to be cute; really cute. I had a job and I had cute job clothes. On the weekends, Shortie and I used to go out for coffee and I had cute oh -so -casual but chic weekend clothes. Sometimes Riz and I would host cocktail parties in our loft-style apartment in downtown Buffalo and I’d wear a grown-up party dress and pumps. Now, the only pump in my closet is for—-ok, ok….TMI. Well, you can imagine what a stay-at-home mom of a 2 year old and 6 month old looks like on most days. And if you can’t, I give you exhibit A:
See, even the baby looks like he’s going to be sick. Not cute. Things to note:
- Pulled back, unwashed hair
- Over-sized Dave Matthews Band tee which probably has wet and/or dry spit-up
- Scrub bottoms
- No bra, which lucky for all of you the baby disguises. (PS: Anyone who claims not to need a bra after nursing 2 babies either had work done or doesn’t own a mirror.)
- Glasses, which could be cute with the right ensemble. Here, they just add to the mess.
I’m the vision of the mom I swore I’d never become. Sigh. Interestingly enough, in the pic above I’m on phone with my super-fashionable sister chatting about an upcoming Alice + Olivia fashion show she’s putting together. Double sigh.
Well it’s time for a mommy make-over and here’s what I’m eyeing for the fall:
Now I just need to find a Daddy Warbucks…
Isn’t timing everything? Minutes after my last post, Manu took care of business big time. (Oh. Moving forward I’m guessing there’s going to be a lot of talk about poop. Warned. )
So maybe I underestimated him. I’m trying not to count my chickens but there were zero accidents today. I’m not going to kid myself and say we’re in the clear, but I’m pretty pumped about the progress he made today. What’s even more exciting is how thrilled he is with himself.
After hands were washed and the matchbox tractor was presented with all the pomp it deserved, Manu helped me out with a bit of housekeeping.
Changing table en route to Zeemu's room
Bold move but that’s how we’re rolling.
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.