Did the title give it away? If you're still reading, then you must enjoy stories that involve bodily fluids. Then, my friend, you've come to the correct blog. Let's start the story from the beginning.
Thing 2 is just three and needs to be potty trained. I've made three attempts and haven't been successful yet. So, once again, I put on my potty training armor, made sure I had a bottle of wine in the house and started the process. We stayed at home the entire day to accomplish this not-so-easy-nor-small feat. Success was ours for the day. Four times in the potty, one poop in the potty and one accident in the big girl panties.
Between the time Thing 2 went to sleep and woke up, her brain must have rallied and convinced her that potty training was a waste of time and there were no amount of M&M's that were worth it. She refused to go on the potty the next day. In fact, she cried a little when I would mention it. Yet, I wasn't going to allow this 33 pound creature get the best of me because let's face it, I have a masters degree for crying out loud. So, the big girl panties went on and by golly she was going to get trained.
Soon I hear a sound from the kitchen of the potty chair being moved. Pride swelled in me as I thought, "She's doing it! She's going on her potty!" Soon I hear the stillness broken by the small voice saying, "I pooped."
I ran to the kitchen where she was located to find her standing with her undies around her ankle and two different piles of poop around her. The potty chair was across the room, closed tightly.
"What are you doing? You are supposed to poop IN the potty not on the floor!" I yelled.
"I pooped," she calmly said.
"I see that. I smell that. I understand but why didn't you poop on the potty?" I asked, attempting to remain calm. (In the meantime Thing 1 came in disgusted and ran to get toilet paper for me start cleaning the mess. The dogs also made an appearance to which I had to quickly shoo them away before they decided dessert had been served.)
"No way. No potty for me," she answered.
I proceeded to clean and restore order making her stand beside for it all and carry the stinky parts away since they were hers. I then walked her back to the potty and said, "This is where you poop. Period. Not on the floor. Ever. No way." Then I swatted her lightly, but enough that she knew I meant business.
She turned, looked me straight in the eye and said, "That tickled."
Sigh. It was at that exact moment I realized potty training session was over. I caved. I admit defeat. The white flag with skid marks on it is flying high. You win Thing 2. I can lead a kid to the potty, but I can't make her pee/poop. Words to live by. And knowing her stubborn streak, she might just be THAT kid who goes to kindergarten in diapers.
No comments:
Post a Comment