Number of successes: 10
Number of M&M's given: 10
Number of wet underpants: 8
Number of huge sighs: 5,346
That about sums up our second attempt at potty training Liam. By 11 am on Monday, I'd had enough and put him back in a diaper. And how sad is that I was a little bit happy when he and Evan came down with fevers on Tuesday so that I could abandon the madness that is the potty training?
It has to be the most frustrating time in a parent's life. Just when I think he's gotten the hang of it, he has another accident and it takes all I have to not yell, "What is so hard about this?" But I don't yell. I just sigh, change his underwear and we start again. And again. And again.
It comes down to this: As immature as it sounds, I just do not want to do it. I don't have the patience to do it. And why in heaven's name is it always the mom who is in charge of it? I told Ryan that he's going to have to do it. Either that or he's going to have buy me a whole lot of chocolate and wine to get me through it.
I looked through my archives and found a post about potty training Sydney and while it made me laugh, it also reminded me of how frustrated I was with her, too. And just when I didn't think she'd ever get the hang of it, she did. I'm hoping that once Liam starts back to Mother's Day Out in a couple of weeks and he sees most of his classmates wearing big kid underpants and going potty, he'll figure it all out, too. One can hope, right?
On the lighter side of the issue, I did find myself laughing uncontrollably at my little guy. From time to time, I'd touch the front of his underpants to see if they were still dry. If they were (and usually he'd run to come tell me if they weren't), I'd say, "Still dry - high five!" and then we'd do a little high five. Later in the morning, he walked up to me, touched my crotch and said, "Still dry - high five!" and made me give him a high five. Can't say he's not a cutie pie!
3 weeks ago