Everly is officially potty trained. Wahoo. We made our first attempt over May long weekend, that ended in pee and poop, a laughing toddler and two discouraged parents. Our second attempt was Thanksgiving weekend, which started with pee, poop, a laughing toddler and two discouraged parents, but ended in a house trained Evie. So what happened with all that time in the middle? Hmmm.
I originally was blaming it on Everly. Saying to myself that she just wouldn’t cooperate. She just didn’t want to listen to me and use the potty. She wouldn’t tell me when she had to go, so I just figured that she didn’t want to. In the meantime, she potty trained all her dolls and commented when B and I would use the toilet. She would say “good job!” and “ooh that’s a big one.” She even offered us prizes. So clearly she understood, but she just didn’t do it herself.
As my due date with Matthew approached we realized that we were going to have two kids in diapers. I knew that I should probably give toileting another try, but I just could not muster up the energy to be cleaning dirty underpants. And you know how everyone says that they will revert back to diapers if you try to train them close to the new baby’s arrival, I didn’t want that to happen. So we complained about it, but really did nothing to change it. One of my pet peeves.
Fast forward to October and Everly’s pending early preschool admission application. It is recommended that children be potty trained before entering preschool. I really need her to be in preschool. She really needs to be in preschool. The child believes that sleep is for the weak and has enough energy to solve the energy crisis (if only it could be harnessed). So now I am a woman on a mission, it’s go time.
I read a few guides and books. Surprise, surprise, they all said different things. So I said screw it, we are doing our own thing and if it doesn’t work, well we will try one of these. So Saturday October 8 out went the diapers and on went the underpants. Saturday was a messy day. Sunday started off the same, but kind of got better towards the end. Monday was pretty damn fantastic and Tuesday October 11 was the last time she pooped in her underpants (to date). What did we do? We bribed her, rewarded her, scared her, pumped her full of monitored fluids and put her on the toilet every 30 minutes.
It might not be a coincidence that the last poop in her underpants was in fact the last poop in her underpants. I might have told her that dragons eat underpants with poop in it (she’s afraid of dragons). Now before you judge me, which I know some of you will… I would like to point out that 1- I tell her dragons aren’t real about a million times each day, 2- it worked and 3- I grew up with a bit of fear and it honestly didn’t hurt me. Yep, I am pulling the old school card. She will not die of cancer or kill anyone because I told her that dragons eat pooped in underpants.
Through this experience I learned that the problem was not Everly, it was us. We were being lazy parents. We didn’t want to put in the effort, we didn’t want to clean underpants (how to solve that problem? cut them off and throw them in the garbage). SOOO at the end of the day, we should not have been complaining about it. I don’t think that it is a random occurance that she potty trained once we put our full effort into it (duh). I kick myself in the ass for this now. I don’t know what I was waiting for. Oh wait yes I do, I was waiting for someone to rescue me. I was waiting for the day that Everly would just up and say, “I need to pee pee” and hop on the potty, yeah right, dream on. We could have done this months ago (gives forehead some keyboard). Oh well, too late now. But lesson learned. Oh- she says, “I need to go pee” and “I need to go poop!” and runs to the toilet now all by herself now. Funny how that happened.
Barring any genuine medical condition, it’s not them; it’s you. And if you still think it’s them, you need to buck up buddy and admit the truth. Our kids are the product of our parenting (just like dogs and computers). All of us take credit when they do the good stuff, but we point the finger when they do the not so savory stuff (like wiping poo on the wall).