Tot goes Commando

A couple weeks ago, when Mr.Tot was out of town, I attempted what I feared was the impossible:  potty-training the Tot.  I was going to do it right after I finished our taxes back in March, but the internet deterred me, because the advice was to wait until they were in a cooperative mood.  That might be a looooooong wait –about 25 years.  She actually used the potty a few times way back when she was about 12 months old, and again around 20 months.  But it was just a tease.

But now, she’s 3.  And due to start pre-school in September, which requires her to be potty-trained.  So these are desperate times.  And desperate times call for desperate measures.  Specifically, outright bribery, torture, and blatant disregard for her health.  The bribery was M&M’s for successful sensory perception of impending output AND reaching the potty.  I opted not to put one in the living room, which many people recommended, but did put one in every bathroom, since I got several from our wonderful neighbors.  The torture was making her go bottomless.  Oh wait, that was my torture, ’cause those little buns were way too cute, and I can’t even share them with you ’cause of all the crazies on the internet.  And the blatant disregard for her health was the M&M’s again, and again, and again.  And maybe again.  And my sanity as I asked her every 5 minutes if she had to go potty.  And make sure she stayed off the rug.

She actually did quite well.  Candy is a great motivator for her.  And being naked for the entire weekend, well, that was just a bonus.  And then, we had to walk the dogs.  I didn’t want to put a diaper back on her, and somehow going buck naked didn’t seem quite right.  So, she got dressed but went commando, just in case.  Best-dressed dog-walker I’ve seen.

You know, somehow I thought – you do the potty training and you’re done.  HA.  A few days later, I think she went through 5 or 6 pair of big girl pants in one day.  She’s doing better now, but it is a challenge to remember to keep her newly mastered skills in mind when trapped in the car running errands and such.  Now it’s time to run, RUN to help her get her clothes off, stop the car, I mean, STOP the car – she’s gotta go, and oh yeah – don’t close the sliding glass door such that she can’t get in and she’s hard to hear.

Just another adventure in parenthood.  So many milestones.  So many gray hairs to come.  But she is so proud and so darn cute.

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