It's official - Ess is potty trained! Woo hoo! She was potty trained pretty much the moment I put panties on her through absolutely no skill of mine whatsoever. The girl just gets it. And, she loves her some m&ms. She asks when she has to go, she stays dry in between, she's excited and not stressed about the whole thing. Rock on, baby girl.
And Gee, oh Gee, my beautiful, stubborn, little red-headed boy child. GAME OVER. He's been basically back in diapers since Friday afternoon and we (and by we I totally mean I) are all happier for it. I'll try again when he's ten. I know that is pretty pathetic. I didn't even make it the full week, but the madness had to stop. Friday morning started okay, he went before breakfast and kept everything pointed in the right direction. Then at about nine-thirty, I put him back on the Elmo potty for a little PBS action. He sat on that freaking Elmo potty for three hours. He absolutely refused to go and absolutely refused to get off the potty without getting his m&ms. I felt like I was giving him some kind of horrible Elmo-potty related complex. He had a crazy look in his eyes.They had their first horseback riding lesson on Friday afternoon and I didn't want any accidents or potty control games to spoil it. I just left him in his diaper after his nap. We had such a delightful time. They were completely charmed by the horse - a big, sturdy, steady giant named Hank - and Demi, the girl who owns him and gives lessons on her parents' land. She had them holding the reins after about 15 minutes of riding with her. Their smiles were parenting gold.
I remembered what it was like to just enjoy my children, back a week ago, before we began the great poop and pee extravaganza. I remembered my love affair with diapers, how they catch the junk and hold it, how they let me decide when to clean things up at my leisure rather than RIGHT NOW OMIGOD BEFORE SOMEONE STEPS IN IT AND THE BABY SLITHERS THROUGH IT AND NO ONE MOVE A MUSCLE BECAUSE PSYCHO MOMMY HAS TO CLEAN UP THE UNSANITARY MESS!! I remembered having fairly normal conversations that don't involve asking a small, uncooperative child if he has to go potty every 30 milliseconds. It felt great.
Saturday, Gee did do his marathon PBS sit-in in the morning, but he held it the whole time. We went outside to play in the wading pool. I kept asking him if he needed to use the potty and he kept saying no. Then, he climbed up the steps onto the porch, hid behind a plant and took an enormous dump in his pants. "UNCLE," they heard me cry in the next county.
I will be saving all of your tips and suggestions, and the Messter map, for my next attempt to civilize Gee six months from now. I really do hold out hope that at some point it will be just as easy for him as it was for Ess. Naive, perhaps, but optimistic. Here's the Messter map one last time because I had to add the great porch dump of 2008. It was a classic.
There's a little guilt about giving up so easily, but I am fairly confident that I am making the right decision for Gee and for me, because yesterday? Yesterday, I felt like this.
And today, I'm all...
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