every time i hear of YET ANOTHER toddler younger than cash being potty trained, i kind of want to break out in a homicidal rage.
because the mothers of said toilet trained tots are always so helpful. so full of ideas that will help even the most difficult child start using the toilet.
you guys - these women have not met my child.
or if they have, they haven't spent enough time with him to recognize that difficult doesn't fully describe him.
i'm beginning to think he's actually super human - the level of commitment he puts into being stubborn is, frankly, a little inspiring.
and up until recently i've been happy to let my 3 year old that is the size of some 5 year olds run around happily in diapers.
and then i noticed the rub marks on his hips.
you know, rub marks caused from the diaper being too small.
the next size up in diaper DOESN'T EXIST.
so i figured now was as good a time as any to try out this whole 'toilet business.'
let me start off with my biggest regret: being pregnant while trying to potty train the most stubborn child in the history of the universe. because i know for a fact this whole process would be made A LOT easier if mommy could have a beer. or five.
the first day ended with lots of tears over soaked underwear, tears over being terrified to sit on the potty chair, tears over being terrified to sit on the actual toilet, tears over being terrified to pee standing up, tears over desperately needing that beer (ok, that last one was me.)
this morning i was completely prepared to put a diaper on him, at least until i got showered and ready for the day.
but when i went to put his diaper on, he said, "No! Pants-ai." [[for those who don't speak cash, all words have either a 'Y' or an 'AI' at the end of it. i don't know why.]]
me, "What? You don't want a diaper?"
cash, "Pants-ai, pants-ai, pants-AIIIII."
this is about the time that i went, HOLY SHIT, we're getting somewhere.
ya. we weren't.
he happily spent the next 2 hours in his big boy undies. i asked him every 15 minutes if he needed to potty (to which he emphatically replied, "NOOOOO!")
here's where i should mention that the day before i tried every bribery under the sun to get him on the potty.
movies, sesame street videos, gummi bears, frozen blueberries, a lollipop, uninterrupted phone time....nothing.
i also tried the 'aim for the cheerio in the toilet' trick - to no avail.
so when he said, "Potty?" grabbed my phone and took off for the bathroom, i was practically giddy.
then i tried to sit him on the potty chair.
it was like i tried to strap him to the electric chair.
same went for the toilet.
at the end of which he said, "No potty!" and ran away.
with all this toilet talk, i needed to pee (which isn't surprising, i ALWAYS need to pee right now.)
just as i was finishing up washing my hands, i heard "Uh-ohhhhhhh" from the living room.
BIG. HEAVY. SIGH.
sure enough, i found him on the couch, sitting in a puddle of pee, crying.
and he continued to do this for the rest of the day (until i ran out of clean, dry underwear.)
i love when people say, getting them to recognize when they have to go is half the battle!
no, it fucking ISN'T.
getting them to actually SIT ON THE GODDAMNED TOILET is half the battle. [[grandma, sorry about the swear words. you can blame my dad for that.]]
what gets me is i know he can tell when he needs to go. he'll even voice it. but then he refuses to sit on the damn toilet.
and you know what else? he's freaking heavy. and shockingly strong. and wrestling a nearly 50 pound, pissed off toddler onto the toilet is not high on my list of 'things i want to do while pregnant.' (granted, it's not high on my list of things i want to do...ever. still.)
here's hoping that both of us survive this.
without jail time.