Tuesday, January 21, 2014

There is a reason that PTSD starts with the letters PT, aka Potty Training so far...

We started potty training this week, and I was a total wreck Sunday night with nerves and anxiety. My first foray into the potty training experience was a long time ago- I made an attempt when Noah was 16 months old. I did one of those super-intensive 5 day programs where you berate your child every 5 seconds asking her if she has to pee and you don't stray 2 feet from them for a week straight. I almost committed myself- I was so emotional and exhausted I was fit for a straight jacket by weeks end. Noah hated me, I hated life, there was pee EVERYWHERE. To make matters worse she actually caught on, and by the end of the week she was going #1 in the potty, but #2 didn't catch on. So, not only did I have to endure the hell that was that week, I had to suffer the slap in the face that was taking her out of panties and putting her back in pull-ups. The decision which, of course, resulted in complete and total regression. A year later and I'm still scarred, hence my apprehensive state Sunday evening. I also knew that I was going to be furious if it didn't take. She pees and poops in the potty every day- I know she can do it. She goes at school, she goes at home- but only when we tell her to, and when we don't she is perfectly content to sit around in her own piss and crap (those words seem appropriate in this description). Lately we've caught a break- she's had multiple instances of upset stomach and it burns her little tushy skin. While I felt bad for my little angelface schmookumhead- I totally capitalized on it. "Sweetie, when you pee and poop in your pull-ups that is what happens..it hurts you because pee and poo aren't supposed to be on your skin, and Mommy and Daddy have told you over and over again to go potty in the toilet, so this is really your fault." I know shaming your kid is the equivalent of SNL's "Dissing your Dog" but desperate times call for desperate measures. I'm pleased to say that as far as the using the bathroom portion of potty training goes we've been moderately successful. One accident day 1, and one accident day 2- both #1's! I'm still having to make her go, she won't make the decision herself, but I'm hoping that comes with time. She didn't go #2 at all the first day. Chad and I were on pins and needles when she woke up with an empty pull-up this morning, every weird noise she made we were on top of her "You're not pooping, are you!?!?" My big girl didn't have a #2 accident, though- I asked her to try after lunch and we had huge success. The funniest moment of my day was sending Chad this picture in an email:

Now, as far as the being stuck inside a house alone with my 2 1/2 year old all day portion of potty-training goes- it could be better. My bestie is a teacher and calls when she is leaving school around 4ish, she can vouch that by late afternoon I'm hanging by a thread of sanity dangling over a pit of crazy as loon. Why is it that the daunting task of potty training needs to occur at the age when our precious dears are at their most annoying and trying? I can only imagine it's so that when they are teenagers yelling at you, and breaking rules, and completely disappointing you to the point of no return- they're also not crapping all over your house. It's the only logical explanation. My saving grace has been the gym in the evenings. Hubby was under strict instruction to not dawdle after work and head straight home to relieve me of my house arrest. I've had the most amazing work outs of my life the past two nights- I'm so glad to be out of the house and released from having to constantly stare at Noah's crotch- it's ridiculous. Alas, tomorrow is mid-week. I've really put the pressure on for no accidents tomorrow. Say some prayers. For both of us! xoxo Layne

P.S. In case you don't get the "Dissing you Dog" reference...here is a link- there is a "bleeped" expletive so if you are not comfortable with that then don't watch it.

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