09 April 2011

Potty Training is not for the Weak of Heart, Stomach, or the Color Blind


Hello, Friends.

It's been a while. Again. No excuses. Just updates. We'll start with the biggest issue on the planet. Potty Training. I feel as if I've done nothing over the past weeks and months but think about, obsess over, wonder, question and dread potty training. Following my initial posts I gave in to the whole theory of "Just relax. It'll happen when it happens". It so did not happen.

Approximately 2 weeks ago I decided to give in to the Nike catch phrase and "Just Do It". I prepped the kid for a few days, little sayings and things "Friday is Potty Day", "Friday we use the Potty ALL day", "This is it Kid. We are going to DO IT!". Things that just don't work on a 3 year old. But, I gave it the old college try. We got up, put on the training pants, had 3 accidents in the span of 3 hours, had 2 sets of training pants soaking in bleach, and that was just the first morning. Do I need to tell you how exhausted I was by the end of the evening? And by the end of the weekend? A screaming/crying/tantrum throwing kid on top of numerous accidents, never leaving the house, and of course there was the screaming/crying/tantrum throwing Mommy.

Oh, yes. If I'm not honest here, where will I be honest. I told my child I was going to take her into the woods behind our house and leave her for the fairies. I told her I was going to leave her naked until she figured out how to not make any more laundry for me. I told my 3 year old that none of her friends would want to be friends with her anymore because she didn't know how to use the potty. I told her she would never go to school. I think I even threatened to not take her out of the bathroom. Let's just say that none of those ubber-supportive tactics worked.

Now, this isn't as bad as it sounds. Okay. It's as bad as it sounds. But, in my defense it was after days of endless cheering, support, hugs, kisses, rousing songs, special "Potty Play List" on the iPod... you name it, I tried it.

And this went on for days. And my mother, my poor sainted mother, had to do this too. Because I took off for 3 days, 2 weeks in a row and went to work. And I was happy to go. For the first time ever, I was happy to drop her off and go to work.

And then I discovered the magic trick for my daughter. Jellybeans. Colors galore. She could pick her own color. And the size. And the flavor. AMAZING. Play a game of Candyland, march off to the potty and there, once your job is accomplished there are jellybeans and Abby Caddabby stickers. Now, we tried candy previously. Chocolate, cookies, candy corn, many different types of stickers. But, nothing was as wonderful as Jellybeans and Abby Caddabby. Sunday, almost a week ago, there was nothing but laughter and clapping and lots and lots of Jellybeans.

I believe that I have passed along the obsessive compulsive gene to my daughter. She can't control that I am forcing her to the bathroom every hour, or the fact that she has to wear training pants, or that the Potty Fairy only left enough diapers in our house for night time use. But, she can control the color of the Jellybean.

And she's great at it. With the exception that I can't get her to, how do we say this delicately, have a Number 2. She went once in 3 days when she was at my mother's for her Nana day. And now it's been another 3 days. I'm starting to worry that she'll explode. Or that I will because the screaming/crying/tantrum throwing child has returned for the last few days. And I think that the screaming/crying/tantrum throwing mommy maybe not too far behind.

Help.

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