Extreme Potty Training: A Diary
Toby's first accident-free day. Ian has two accidents but tells me both times. Could this be working?
I'm enjoying my breakfast when it dawns on me: I am enjoying my breakfast. The first week of boot camp, I ate so little that I lost two pounds. Now? I'm savoring my oatmeal, fairly confident the boys won't have an accident.
Ian interrupts my reverie by presenting me with his potty-chair insert. "Pee-pee!" he says proudly.
Later, Toby sits on the potty without prompting, then announces, "Big poo-poo!" He stands up, and I peer into the bowl. That is no hallucination.
I'm declaring boot camp over. My two guys have earned their stripes.
It's been six months since boot camp. The boys still have occasional accidents -- and we had a very messy week when we ditched the naptime nappies a few months ago -- but to me, that's a small price to pay for the joy of bypassing the diaper aisle at Costco. I've all but forgotten the awfulness of those early weeks. We're not home free yet, though. Every morning at 5:30 a.m., I am awakened by Toby screaming, "All done!" There's one part of this potty process that 2 1/2-year-olds apparently can't master: bottom wiping. Nobody warned me about that.