Only those two words can make a full-grown adult cringe with anxiety (or fear).
After my two girls, I rather considered myself somewhat of an expert. When my son turned two at the end of the summer, I realized this was not the case.
But really, I brought this on myself. After all, 26 months is a bit early to start training for boys (though some do fantastically even younger!). I suppose my mentality went something like “2020 can hardly get any worse! Why not just go ahead and rip the bandaid off and really see how awful this year can end!”
Potty training a boy for the first time around hasn’t been all horrible though. After all, my son is *very* adept at flushing the toilet. I am concerned, however, that our water meter may cause the St Johns County utility department to alert the police that our house is being used for questionable (or even illegal) purposes.
And another plus side of training a boy is clearly the anatomical advantage of being able to pee in various settings. But then again, being sprayed with urine is not my idea of fun so we’re gonna stick with sitting on the miniature potty (which 4 out of 5 family members can successfully use in the minivan — take a look at my family’s photo if you want a guess at who the odd one out is).
And how can I forget the humor added to my day?? For example, this morning I got a message from a neighbor across the street at 7:45 am admitting she saw me chasing my nude toddler around the tree in the front yard. But that’s the hazard of doing the whole naked potty training method (along with the demise of all our fabric furniture). By the way, it’s amazing to me that such a young child could have formulated and executed an escape plan so smoothly — it was clear to me that he the idea in the back of his mind since he woke up and was just waiting for me to turn my back to bring the whole thing to fruition — p.s. sorry to all my neighbors!
Even with my girls, I’ve had my fair share of potty training nightmares. The middle child was the culprit of the infamous poo-pocolypse in my house, and even though she is almost 4, she is still VERY unclear about the meaning of privacy. Whenever I ask her to give me some, she starts rummaging in the bathroom cabinet screaming “I don’t see the privacies!!” while I sit with an exasperated expression on the toilet.
The oldest child has not once but TWICE relieved herself on someone’s lawn. Unfortunately the last time this happened we had just moved into our home in St Augustine and it was literally the first interaction I had with this particular neighbor.
I’m sure when my children are grown and completely independent with all their digestive needs, I will fondly remember this humiliating, exhausting, and unsanitary time with tears in my eyes. For now, though, I will continue to haul my traveling potty seat, a quart-size jug of hand sanitizer, baby wipes, and gallon-sized ziplock bags around in my minivan. Because let me tell you — with those supplies in hand, there isn’t a mess on the planet this stay at home mom can’t clean up.