For some unknown reason, my boys have business to tend to within minutes of returning home from school.
And by business, I mean business.
It tickles me that everyday after school, my sweet Alex yells at the top of his little lungs, “Can someone please come wipe my bottom?” It tickles me because 97.9% of the time, I am the only other person in the house capable of wiping a bottom, yet he insists on yelling for someone.
While making my way to the bathroom this afternoon to take care of business, I smiled as I recalled the difficulty we had potty training our stubborn sweet boy just a short time ago.
I went to the archives of my first blog over on mySpace and thought it might be fun to re-run this post originally dated September 6, 2008. (And, if I’m lucky, the line spacing won’t go all zonky when I post it!).
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It is time to get serious.
We have been in the throngs of Potty Training for three weeks now and really it’s time to buckle down.
To poop or get off the pot.
Just sayin.
Because of that, I invested $10.00 for all manner of junk toys, and cars. Each toy has been lovingly wrapped in brightly colored tissue paper and placed them into one of my beloved Longaberger baskets. Each time my sweet boy goes Number Two, (does Number Two?) he gets to pick a gift from then gift basket.
Some people call that bribery.
Me? I was a psych major so I call it positive reinforcement.
And to me, a basket full of carefully wrapped toys seems pretty fun.
Was I ever wrong.
When I asked said sweet boy if he wanted to try to go Number Two – he shouted, “I don’t wanna use the potty” and went on about his business.
It’s safe to say that I am preparing for a long haul.
In the three weeks since we started this whole mess, he has gone Number two only once. But, that particular time, he told me he had to go, which is a big step toward progress. When we talked afterward about how much fun it would be to choose a toy each time he went number two, he responded with, “Well, I just wanted that jeep and that’s it.” He hasn’t gone number two since then.
I am optimistic that this basket full of junk toys – which will probably not hold his interest 17 minutes after he opens them – will eventually be enough to do the trick.
Having done this whole potty business three years earlier with Stevie, I am acutely aware that no matter how hard I try, or will it to happen, I do not have the power to make this child go number two on the potty.
Or number one for that matter.
I’m trying to be patient, because the thing is, he is my baby. My last baby. Which means that this is the last time I’ll be fighting this battle. I am ready.
So. Freakin. Ready.
Another plus is that I will no longer be donating to the Huggies empire, which means that I will have more money for shoes and handbags.
Yes indeed, it is time to get serious.
To poop of get off the pot if you will.
Because I’m so tired of seeing Lighting McQueen full of crap.
Literally.
Gross, I know.
But so true.
For the next few weeks, you can find me beside That Other Throne instead of the one I’m accustomed to being perched on.
Wish me luck!
{ 1 comment }
Sweet, sweet Alex — I KNEW he could do it!!
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