the one where potty training kills me

I’m quite certain that potty training is the worst, most stressful thing a parent has to go through in the first 18 years of a child’s life. Though I say that in the midst of it, in the trenches of wet Spider-Man underpants.

I don’t even remember much about potty training my girls. I remember frustrations, but I don’t remember the actual process. But, somehow, neither of them were in diapers when they entered kindergarten.

Actually, I think my mom potty-trained the first one. I was at Briercrest and my mom missed Kaylie desperately, so I agreed to let Kaylie fly back with my parents to Terrace after Nick & Teresa’s wedding, and I’d pick her up again at Christmas. It was a full month she was gone. (Noah says I wasn’t a very nice person when Kaylie was gone, which, you know, I missed my baby!) Anyway, she came back potty-trained. Six years later, I think I remember threatening to send Liliana to my mom, too.

The biggest difference between now and when I was potty training my girls is that now I am home full-time during the day. With the girls, I was either working or in school full-time. Being home makes it so much easier.

That being said, potty training is anything but easy. My sister-in-law Teresa said something a bit ago about potty-training my nephew Tucker, and filled me in on the method she used: the Three-Day Potty Training Method.

I won’t explain the method here, but if you’re interested, let me know.

I didn’t have high hopes. I didn’t understand how a kid could go from zero interest in potty training to potty trained in three days. Yesterday morning, Preston didn’t even notice he was wetting himself. But by the time he went to bed, he’d been hours without an accident, letting me know every time he had to go. And then he stayed dry all night. Miraculous, as he usually wakes up with a full diaper.

This morning it’s a bit like starting at yesterday’s half-way point. Accidents out-weigh successes, but we’ve still got one and a half days to go. I know he can do it.

Preston doesn’t care too much about the rewards. He got Smarties the first couple times he used the potty, but then he lost interest in them, favouring the whole dump-the-pee-in-the-big-toilet-and-swish-it-all-around-with-his-hand thing.

There’s a lot of hand-washing going on here.