Extreme Potty Training: A Diary
8:40 a.m.: Ian pees.
8:45: Toby pees.
9:27: Ian pees.
10:05: Toby pees.
11:00: Ian pees.
11:05: Toby pees.
11:25: Ian poops.
11:34: Toby pees.
11:36: Ian pees.
11:45: Toby pees.
12:15 p.m.: Ian pees.
12:27: Toby pees.
And not once on the potty. By noon, we've run out of clean shorts. Amanda and I agree: This can't continue.
At 9 a.m. on Monday, I greet Amanda with the news: I've kept the project afloat over the weekend.
"Stacy keeps telling me it takes three weeks to 'click,'?" I tell Amanda. "I'm too invested to quit."
Amanda makes her own confession: "I'm too invested, too." She forges on solo as I abandon her to catch up on a week's worth of work.
My friend Brenda stops by with her son, Heath, whom she adopted as a toddler from a Siberian orphanage. Heath was potty trained at 18 months. "I never had to change a single diaper," Brenda says, trying not to gloat.
Later, I Google "Siberia" and "potty training." All I find are tips on how to potty train Siberian huskies.