Potty training

So the big boy of the house has become a man. Yep, that's right, Chad is now potty trained and I'm one gosh darn proud wife.

Just kidding!

Ho-ho-ho-ho-ha-ha-ha-ha I'm such a hoot!

No, but seriously, our first born has flown the coup-o-diapers! Yes! He really is on his way to kid-dom, as his crib is now a distant memory and the dude has no need for those cumbersome things we like to call "diaps" anymore. It sort of makes me sad... But not really ;)

Anyway, here is how that child went from a little toddler to a BIG toddler:

(Warning: this probably will only be interesting to...um...me.)

About seven or eight weeks ago, I got it into my head that it would be a great time to start potty training my almost two-and-a-half year old since he was showing a fair amount of signs that he was ready, so off we went to Target to get the goods. I let him pick out his precious big boy underwear (Cars, of course), the type of seat which would sit gloriously upon the porcelain god (I just wanted to go straight for the big potty in order to avoid cleaning out a small one; that and I also didn't want him to be scared of going in a public restroom, which is what I thought a small potty would do to him), and what sort of stool he wanted to step up upon. It was quite the outing, just me, him and the babe, so we were off and running on a positive foot!

As soon as we got home, I talked to him about diapers, all while he was rolling around and pointing to his own while shouting, "MY diaper, mom! MY diaper!," which made me feel good, like I was getting through to him. So from then on out, it was big boy undies during the day, then a diaper during sleep time, and so it was for the next four days. 

There were 5 accidents the first day, 3 the second, 1 the third, then none on the fourth, but here was the thing:

The kid's bladder control was out of this world. 

He would wait the ENTIRE morning, then as soon as I strapped him back into a diaper, it was like the flood gates had broken!

At that point, when he was wearing his big boy underwear, if I tried to sit him on the potty he would just cry, so in an attempt to not scare the hooligans out of him (scar him for life), I didn't push it. I was just happy that he apparently had mastered bladder control, even though that was sort of already know because he was waking up dry in the mornings. 

Anyway, the fifth day came and we were clear out of big boy underwear AND I had work later that day. Uh-oh. That's alright, I thought, I'll just put him in a diaper while I run the laundry, then on the car ride down to my parents' do the same thing. Well, that was not such a good idea. It totally screwed with his mind! Should he pee, or shouldn't he? Was this okay, or wasn't it?! 

But thank goodness he had a diaper on, because that day saw lots of #2's... and not solid, easy-to-clean-up #2's, but rather on the liquidy side. Oh, and my original plan of running the laundry? Yeah, it didn't happen. I had hit a day of complete laziness. 

So he wore diapers for the next few days to a) contain the poop situation, and b) because there were no clean options for him since our laundry basket was not full enough to warrant an entire day of work. There! It's out there! I got lazy and blamed it on the poop situation!
 (Even though it really was quite the "situation," lasting no less than 5 straight days.)

Anyway, since then, Chad would ask me every once in awhile when we were going to get back in the saddle, so when I bought a small package of size six diapers last week, I decided that as soon as I run out of them it was go time. While charging through those bad boys, I went on a walk with one of my lady friends and she told me about how she had just potty trained her little man and how it worked like CRAZY. So I thought, alright cool, as soon as I'm out of these diapers, I'm going to swing by pinterest and find exactly which technique she had used.

Well, the next evening, I ran out. Totally unexpectedly. As in, there was not one gosh darn diaper in my baby bag, under the bed, under his bed, in the car, no where. NO. WHERE.

And the worst part was that I realized this around 4:00 in the afternoon, but thankfully after his #2 for the day, so I guiltily just said to myself that after his bath, I'll just put this same one back on him as long as there's no pee involved. 

Well, he pooped. AGAIN.

So the only thing we could do was to put him in big boy underwear for the night (que freakish laughter, because that just sounds stupid now). So, obviously, he woke up soaking wet, despite his long stretch of dry mornings. I sort of went into panic mode, especially when I realized that I had not yet gotten him a small potty (which came highly recommended as soon as I told anyone I had just started him off on the big potty). After changing his wet underwear, I packed the kids up, rushed out the door and jammed over to Target, all while knowing Carter had peed once again into his new dry pair. Once we were in Disneyland through the automatic doors, we sprinted over to swoop up the little froggy potty, a new set of big boy underwear and a box of pull-ups (which were completely unnecessary).

Anyway, after a monsoon-level pee incident in the parking lot (be jealous), it was time to go home and start the madness. Off came his clothes, commencing the day of insanity.
First of all, he hated the froggy potty. Those buns never made contact, except for the one time I literally was forcing him down, WHILE he was screaming AND peeing AND trying to sock the side of my head. It was lovely.
Second of all, he now hated the Cars seat from the last time which sits on top of the big potty. Great.
Thirdly, I had forgotten the candy I was supposed to reward him with at Target, so I had to bribe him with his gummy bear vitamins.
IT. WAS. AWESOME.

(Did I mention the poor chap's room has turned into our transitional-living-situation landing pad for all things unsightly? Like cardboard boxes full of wires?)

So the whole first day seemed like one big accident to me. By the time Chad got home from work, I was in such a horrible mood that tears were threatening. It felt like someone had forced potty training upon me, but I knew that was absolutely ludicrous. I should have kept a closer eye on my diaper count! Above all of that, though, I knew that if I just didn't get through it this time, the THIRD go around would be even worse.

So that was the first day. The second was significantly better, with the only accident being that of #2. The third day saw no accidents except for a small #2 in the morning, but then later in the day HE POOPED IN THE POTTY! HE POOPED IN THE POTTY! It was probably the closest we've ever felt to hitting it big in Vegas.
(Hi, we have kids, and we are boring.)

So anyway, this was the technique I used which was referred to me by my friend, but here's the gist of it:
- Day 1: lots of sweets and salty treats to perpetuate thirst. Set the timer for every 15 minutes to have them sit on the potty, but if they don't go, set the timer for every 5 minutes. 
- It doesn't say to have the babe run around naked, but I had heard about the three day potty training technique where you just let the kid run around like a wild animal in the nude, so I just combined the two and presto! Potty trained in a weekend!
- No diapers, NO pull ups. That was my downfall the first time around, and when I put Carts in a pull up during nap time the first day (this last time), he totally soaked it. What's the difference between a diaper and a pull up, anyway? They're the same thing! The kid, I'm sure, would have no clue that he/she had had an accident.

There is way, way, way, way, way, WAY more information that I found very useful on that link, but those are just a few things I can think of.

Anyway, today is the fifth day and all has been wonderful. Of course there will be a few slip ups, like this morning when he woke up completely soaked, but hey! The majority of the hard work was done during that first day of hell, and we are not looking back!
Now I just can't wait to potty train Kota Bear. Man, she is going to be easy peasy!

(Knock on wood.)