After months of hinting and begging and all but forcing Blake to go potty, it finally clicked. The boy apparently just needed his Daddy. While I was away Saturday, working on the campaign, Blake decided it was time to transcend into boyhood. By lunch he had put his pee pees in the potty three times. Like any parent, I was prepared for this to be a fluke, an accident of pee pee proportions. Or maybe Neil was the magic key? Would his return to work signal a reversal? Low and behold with the exception of a few minor accidents, mostly my fault, and of course #2, Blake has been in underwear all week long.
For those of you without kids, you must know, on some level, that this, my friend, is no minor feat. Potty training, in it of itself, is a full time job, and I already have several of those. You have to plan more time into everything, especially when venturing out. As I found out yesterday, there is no such thing as a quick run to the store before picking up Owen. In other words, I set Blake up for failure. You simply can't tell a 2 year old, who a few days ago peed at will, to hold it, even if it is just for a few moments. Yes, yes, I've been through this before, but that was a year and a half ago. I can barely remember what I did last week.
The good news is that I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Having two potty trained children means being able to go to Ikea and letting them play in the Smaland while Madison and I wander aimlessly through the store with Katy and Bekah. Yep, that actually happened. I'm thinking that Ikea might become a weekly trip for us. But probably not...like I have time.
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1 year ago