July 12, 2012

You Gotta Fight! For Your Right! To POTTY!

Not my kid. Kind of wish it was.

Potty training has begun.

But before we get into that, I know what you're thinking.

Where the HELL has she been?!

Initially I was going to tell you all that I have simply been too busy to post. That, my friends, would be a lie. Turns out no one likes a liar.

So here's the truth: I did not want to post. Nope. Not one bit.

This was actually a very Lucyish thing to do - start a new hobby, jump in with total abandon, convince Ricky that said hobby is clearly life changing and this time I am going to stick with it!

But then I get bored. So bored.

So I move on to another bright and shiny hobby. Sometimes even three or four at a time. I am that good. The past few weeks have included the Whole30, Insanity, and refinishing furniture - details to come in the near future.

As I obsessed over learned about my new interests, ridiculous things kept happening and I found myself thinking about writing a new post... and then I would remember that I had moved on to bigger and better things!

But guess what? It turns out there are people who actually noticed that my absence and started asking me when I was going to blog again. Now, I find this to be quite hilarious because I still don't even know what this blog is about. It's kind of about nothing. Random nothingness. If you are here in search of anything remotely helpful or informational I suggest you go elsewhere.

Be that as it may, I had a change of heart and decided to embrace the random nothingness and return to the blogosphere! At least until I get bored again.

(And for the record - Why would anyone want to start a NEW blog that is actually helpful when we have Pinterest? Beats the hell out of me. I would much rather steal someone else's creative ideas than waste time developing my own crappy recipes and crafts.)

Now potty training.

The idea that little people come out of the womb without any clue how to manage their own P&P (pee and poop) is absolutely beyond me. Poor planning, God. This one's on you, Big Guy. Major design flaw. Just sayin'.

Little Ricky turned two in March, so we decided this summer to teach him how to use the potty. And yes, I also think the word potty sounds absolutely ridiculous, however in an effort to teach my two year old appropriate preschool language (whatever that means) I have said potty about 34 million times over the last four days. It is what it is. Personally, I would rather feel stupid saying potty than have Little Ricky march into preschool this fall and ask to use the pot. Or the pisser. Sick.

A few things you must know about my feelings towards potty training:

1. I refuse to buy a miniature plastic toilet. Call me crazy, but the idea of cleaning out what is essentially a chamber pot is a little too 19th century for me. I also think they look stupid. I'm sorry that I'm not sorry for feeling this way.

2. I did, however, buy a Sesame street toilet insert because I would hate to flush Little Ricky down the toilet if he fell in. Plus it has handles so he can hang on when things get really wild.

3. I am not below giving M&Ms as a reward for makin' it in the toilet. I wish someone would give me candy everytime I successfully used the potty. (Hint, Ricky.)

4. I have absolutely no desire to drag this process out. I have an irrational fear that my house will smell like pee (it doesn't, hence the irrational part) for the duration of potty training so I just want to get it over with. So I decided on the 3 Day Potty Training Method. Git 'er dun.

We started Monday morning by throwing away all of the diapers. Little Ricky has been in Pull Ups for a few months and I have decided they are not any more conducive to potty training than regular diapers. Sorry folks, they are the same thing. Just more expensive. But hey, the designs are fantastic! Throwing away the Pull Ups was infinitely more important for me than Little Ricky. Knowing my house is sans Pull Ups forces me to continue housebreaking potty training the little rascal.

In my excitment to get started, I realized I didn't actually have the supplies I needed so I sent Ricky on a mission to WalMart to purchase the following: baby gate to quarantine LR to the bedroom/bathroom hallway during naps and bedtime, a step stool, 15 pairs of toddler underwear, and positive reinforcers - M&Ms and Oreos to reward Little Ricky along the way. Ricky and I may or may not have rewarded ourselves as parents with the entire package of LR's Oreos since Monday. I know... shameful.

After throwing out the Pull Ups I slapped a pair of Buzz Lightyear underwear and a matching t-shirt on Little Ricky and we were ready to go! But then nothing happened.... for three hours. He drank water and that didn't work. So we made Kool Aid and that didn't work either. Talk about anticlimactic. Good to know my child has a bladder of steel.

And about the time I wondered about the functionality of Little Ricky's plumbing, he had his first accident! I was thrilled that he started to pee his pants (parenthood is really weird) and we dashed to the potty! We were too late. Too bad.

As you can imagine, potty training involves a lot of accidents, dashing, changing, laundry, and M&Ms. Therefore, I have decided to spare you the details of every P&P situation - because that would be gross - so I'll give you the (very) brief overview and focus on the funny.

Day 1, Monday: He didn't get it. It didn't click. He wanted a diaper, I wanted a drink. We created a potty dance. I yelled at Ricky for making fart noises along with an incredibly unbecoming poop pose at the end of the potty dance. Little Ricky proceeded to imitate his daddy. Great.

Day 2, Tuesday: Little Ricky started to show a little understanding, although I think he also began tuning me out after the 300th time I said: "Little Ricky, tell mommy when you need to go pee pee in the potty, ok?!" The enthusiasm in my voice became a little forced by lunchtime.

Day 3, Wednesday: It began to work... he was actually doing the deed in the potty! A few minor mishaps but overall I would say things were looking promising. The highlight of day three was undoubtedly the private conversation he had with his ding-a-ling.

Little Ricky (while sitting on the potty, looking down at his friend): "C'mon, pee pee. Where are you, pee pee? C'mon. Please? PEE PEE!! WHERE ARE YOU?! Ready, set, GO!!"

Day 4, Thursday: Day 4 brings us to today. Funny how the 3 Day Potty Training Method brought us to a fourth day. Huh. Things took a brief downhill turn this morning when, after staying dry all night, Little Ricky stood up during breakfast and screamed, "MOMMYYYYY!!! POTTYYY!!" And then came the flood. Little Ricky was standing straight up on a tall bar stool about eighteen feet in the air, peeing everywhere, and looking at me in sheer horror at his actions. I guess the silver lining here is that at least he realized the error of his ways. I threw placed the Bulldog on the floor, grabbed Little Ricky (holding him two feet out in front of me because I didn't want to get pee on me, oh hell no!) and hightailed it to the bathroom. I'm sure you can infer the rest.

Oddly enough, that was the last accident he had. I guess he decided to go out with a bang. So since 9 am this morning (14 hours, but who's counting?) he has successfully used the potty as intended. I'm sure we're not quite out of the woods yet, but I feel confident in saying Little Ricky is well on his way to potty training stardom. And for whatever reason naptime and bedtime have been signficantly easier than the daytime - other than a small nap accident on day one, he has stayed completely dry. Yes, I'm proud. But not proud enough to post a picture of him sitting on the toilet on Facebook. I will never understand that phenomenon. Feel free to enlighten me if you do.

**FRIDAY MORNING UPDATE: Still no accidents. BOOM.

So join me in a chant, dear friends... "GO Little Ricky, GO!!"

No, seriously. We want you to go.

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