When you live in a house full of boys, minus the dog and the baby in my belly, you learn to deal with the grossness of life. It all doubles when half those boys are under 4 and things like toots, pee, and poop become part of your daily routine. Then you have to add in potty training and the stubborn will of a 3 year old boy. What a train wreck. Peeing in the potty was easy, very few accidents after Owen figured out how much fun it was to stand, aim, and wiz. But poop, whoa! For some reason, Owen just did not want to "put his poopies in the potty." A couple of weeks ago, we did away with diapers except at night. I can't tell you how many pairs of dirty underwear I've washed since then. And let me tell you, it's disgusting. If we go a day without accident, it's due to the simple fact that Owen didn't poop at all that day. Sometimes, I would go through 5 pairs of underwear in a single afternoon. A very frustrating process indeed.
Then, yesterday, the miracle occurred...Owen poo pooed in the potty all by himself. In the midst of this training event, it's very difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but when it comes, it sure is bright and warm and welcoming. Now granted, it's been less than 24 hours since the blessed event occured, but I am proud to say we've had not one accident. And then comes the peace.
I'm Not A Stalker, Just A Fan
1 year ago