"Potty training ain't for sissies," she said to herself as she swung her legs out of bed and planted her feet firmly on the floor. (Cue old Western movie whistling sound effects) With a stern look of determination, a pull-up in each holster, and a gleam in her eye, Mrs. Potato Head jumped back in the saddle again. This time...she'd be ready.
(Again, I've never claimed to be normal...don't mind my glitch in social normalcy.)
I was determined to keep trying. If I had to temporarily quit again in the midst of a breakdown, then fine, but for now I was going to jump right in.
And it worked!
Or something worked.
Actually, I have no idea what really "worked", but something clicked inside his mind, and on Day 3 he began to simply go on the potty. (Looking back, I realize that I had actually quit on Day 2, not Day 3...I didn't even make it 2 full days.)
He must have woken up that morning with the same western music whistling in his ears. No more sitting on the cold floor waiting as he would finally look at me concerned and say "IT NOT WORKING."
He would simply get on, "listen for da tinkle", and get off.
Perhaps it was all of my encouraging "happy" smiles.
Or maybe it was the celebration dance I would perform with him when he "did it".
Maybe it was all of the stickers and "Veggie Tay-ol candies" he would receive.
Or maybe he was just plain sick of my tinkle train and tinkle cha-cha dance.
I can just hear him thinking about how ridiculous they were.
Or maybe he took one look at my new look of cowboy-like determination and ran straight to the potty in fear.
Frankly, I don't really care what made him begin to start "putting his tinkle in the potty". I'm just glad we're on the path to diaper freedom.
Does he tell me that he has to go? No.
Does he always make it to the potty on time? No.
Does he care? No.
But when it comes to potty training...we ain't no SISSIES!
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YEAH! That's awesome Kathy!
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