Oh sure. He looks cute. But believe me, the cuteness wore off after... about... four hours. I probably shouldn't be blogging about this so soon after day three. He just went to bed, so the frustration is still fresh. And really I should give myself a little credit, there was a wee bit of progress made (pun intended). Before this weekend, I had never tried anything to introduce potty training besides sitting out a little potty in Miles' and Knox's bathroom. Miles would sit on it once in awhile for about two seconds and then be on to the next thing (usually unravelling the toilet paper or flushing the big toilet).
Saturday we quit diapers and being a baby cold turkey and went full on to being a "big boy". Miles helped me gather up all his diapers and baby wipes and we put them in a big trash bag. Then he got to pick out which pair of his new big boy undies he wanted to wear, and I explained that he needed to keep them dry and tell mommy when he needed to go potty. Knox (a.k.a. the mad scientist b/c of his hair) was around for moral support.
Miles drank lots of fluids and ate some juicy peaches in hopes to bring about lots of opportunities to tinkle in the potty.
And I guess he was really taking his new role of "Big Boy" seriously because he was insistent on helping me do some chores around the house.
We bought 28 new pair of underwear for Miles, and by the end of the first day he had gone through about 24 of them. I think that when he would start to have an accident, I would scoop him up so fast and furiously trying to get him to the potty in time to finish that he would get scared, cut off his flow, and be too freaked out to finish. So then he'd go a little more a few minutes later, a little more a few minutes after that, and finish up a few minutes after that. That made for lots of marks in the "Accident" column. So I had to work on my calmness when accidents occurred. By the end of day one, he was saying "Uh oh mommy," when he'd start having an accident, and he would finish in the potty. I considered this a small victory, but I was exhausted. I think he was too.
Days two and three weren't much better, and despite wanting to quit, I was faithful to my 3 day commitment. He had fewer accidents, but only because I think he was trying to hold it in so that he wouldn't have to sit on the potty chair. He was sick of hearing me say, "Be sure to tell me when you have to go peepee," every 45 seconds, and I was sick of saying it. We went through a couple of power struggles, and by day three I may or may not have been driven to tears once. Jeremy even told me that while he was changing Knox's diaper today that Miles came in the room, laid down on his back with his legs up, and said, "Miles' turn." Poor kid. He was so "over" it that he simply asked to be put in diapers again. Good grief! Needless to say, Miles will be wearing pull-ups to school tomorrow. I never wanted to go that route, but I'm not sure how receptive his teachers would be to cleaning up twenty accidents throughout the day, and I'm certain his backpack and cubby won't hold 20 changes of undies and clothes. I'm hoping that he might feel some peer pressure from some of the other kids in his class who are also learning to use the big potties.
When Miles broke himself of thumb-sucking at 8 months, someone told me it was a sign of a strong willed child. Uh... yeah. So round one goes to you, Miles. But your mom has also been known to have a stubborn bone or two of her own. And this fight isn't over yet.
Ding, ding, ding...