Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Things that start with the letter P

Potty, panties, pee, poop.  That's what we've been dealing with at our house lately.

Andrea has been talking about using the potty for months.  At first she would mention it while watching me go, then it transformed into contempt for her diapers.  After every diaper change she would tell me how twisty the wretched thing was and when I'd mention big girl Dora panties it seemed to give her hope that her discomfort was coming to an end.  Despite her constant pleas for panties and demands for no diapers, I kept putting off potty training because of my schooling and all of her sicknesses.  At least, that's what I kept telling myself and others.  Last week I wrapped up my finals, and all that talk I'd done caught up with me as questions started arising from friends and family.  Monday, I committed.  Monday I will pull the trigger.

I didn't sleep Sunday night.  I was not merely nervous for potty training but absolutely dreading it.  Because I have a strong-willed little girl I was acutely aware of the potential battle ahead of me.  Additionally, I have control issues and I knew that a lack of diapers meant placing my security and control into the hands of a 28 month old.  This, more than anything, scared me the most.  If she was using a big girl potty I could no longer take her on errands adventures anytime I felt like it.  If she soils herself in a diaper I have the option to change it at my convenience   But now. . . I'm going to have to be aware of public bathroom locations (*shutter*), which are places I personally avoid if possible.  I'm going to have to figure out ways to convince Andrea to use toilets other than her own.  I will have to constantly watch the clock to give her periodic reminders and figure out ways to minimize public accidents.  And if I do all of these things, I still will not be in control!  I will walk the aisles of Wal-Mart staring at Andrea's little face, watching for the moment where I will be cleaning up a mess or running to restroom.  I live with enough anxiety that I wonder if I can handle one more worry.

I laid awake for hours Sunday night thinking about all of this until I told myself to focus on getting her trained at home first. Monday morning I got up with two hours of sleep under my belt and began the process.  After one accidental poop in the potty and a whole lot of peeing in her pants, day one felt like a bust.  This morning was painful.  Andrea continued to have accidents, and I was starting to lose my mind.   Every time I found myself scrubbing pee from the carpet I wondered what I was doing wrong as a mother.  I thought with all of her enthusiasm for panties she'd be doing better than she was, so it had to be me who was messing things up.  When she woke up from her nap and I heard her little voice on the baby monitor I burst into tears.  I just didn't want to keep going.  Then I retrieved her from her bed to find her nap pull-up dry.  I put Dora panties back on her and we proceeded to have three successful trips to the potty.  I danced and sang and cried and rewarded her for each success.  Her triumphs were my triumphs too.

Now she's asleep and I'm trying to have positive thoughts for tomorrow!  I think we can!  I think we can!  I think we can!

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