I’ve decided I am going to start logging this potty training journey with Deven for memory’s sake, so they we may look back and laugh, use as a reference for when it comes time to potty train this next little cadet, or so we can be given further affirmation while we are sitting in the urologists office, awaiting Vance’s vasectomy.
It was just day 1, right? Yesterday was day -1, and it was a very bad idea to attempt a head-start, because it set the tone for today. Flashbacks from yesterday haunted me most of the day, causing me more stress, making the most crucial parts of the day so much worse than they had to be.
I got Deven up, fed him, and took him to the bathroom and explained to him that from now on, he is going to be wearing underwears to school, (except I kept calling them “panties” out of habit, a horrible 22-years-old habit) and that there were no more diapers or pull-ups. He threw a fit, begging for a pull-up, I told him he can just go to back to bed if he wont wear the underwear. It’s the same stupid teeth-brushing fight, only with underpants instead. He ended up in his room, on the floor, screaming his head off, while I sat in the bathroom almost in tears from frustration. Super daddy heard the wild banshee calls, and came to the rescue. He somehow managed to get Deven in his underpants in, like, 2 seconds. Again, the little shit was SMILING the entire time, happy to please daddy while mommy cries.
This was just the morning, before we even got out the door to school.
I got him to school, and talked to his teacher about what the day would entail, and asked her to PLEASE share ANY advice she can, because I have tried EVERYTHING. She didn’t offer much outside of “it’s just a lot of work.” No shit. Only lots of it. And urine. Thanks, lady.
I went home and just tried to put it out of my head. I cleaned my living room and took a nap since I didn’t get much sleep the night before, and wasn’t sure if I would even be able to get a nap in with all of this potty nonsense. When I am sleep deprived in my current condition, it increases the chances of a meltdown occurring at some point in the day. I got up and went to pick up Deven to find him in new pants. The teacher told me he only had one accident, and they weren’t able to get him to go on the potty. That didn’t surprise me, so much as it horrified me, because that meant it was on ME to get him to pee in that potty. Really, I knew he wouldn’t get it the first day, even with taking him to the potty every 15 minutes. I just felt this surge of panic because of his recent habit of completely ignoring me in favor of everyone else. Pleasing mommy is nowhere near as fun as watching her morph into a frazzled nutcase.
I got him home, and the last thing he wanted to do was sit on the potty. For the first half an hour, I was fine with that. I didn’t want to pressure him and make the entire thing traumatic for the both of us, so I decided I would be patient and just tell him that he can have whatever incentive or reward he wants for sitting on the potty. Naturally, him being the ever-principled young patriot he is, those offers fell on deaf ears. He had an accident in the kitchen, and I cleaned him up and offered him new underwear, and he again started pitching a fit over a pull-up and outright REFUSED to wear ANYTHING down below. There was screaming, and wrestling, and running, and more screaming. Things were just going in the complete opposite direction of how I had originally intended them to go, you know, all peaceful and pressure-free. If I couldn’t get him to sit on the potty, FINE, but I, at the very least, needed him to wear something over his bottom, and I couldn’t even get him to do THAT. I ended up breaking down and calling Vance, who told me there was no way he could come home, that I needed to take a deep breath and try to relax, to which I told him “EASY FOR YOU TO SAY!” He was being very patient considering how belligerent I must have sounded. He threw out a suggestion or two for Deven, and I literally clammed up and said, “…I guess I could try that.” There is probably more to this whole Vance winning at parenting thing lately.
So Mr. No-Pants got to sit in in time out until he agreed to put on underwear. It sounds harsh, but after a good 15 minutes of back-and-forth in the corner, he agreed to put on the underwear. I hugged him, thanked him, apologized profusely and the day took a better turn. We went upstairs to nap, and I made him lay on a hospital-grade puppy-training pad so he wouldn’t wet our bed. He ended up holding it in through the entire 3 hr nap, and then when he got up, his next accident happened literally 2 inches away from the potty on the bathroom floor. I call it a WIN. I convinced Vance to take Deven upstairs and promise him chocolate and stickers for sitting on the potty, and somehow, it worked. We were able to get him to attempt the potty a good half a dozen times before the day ended.
Yes, he had 5 or 6 accidents, but it was the first day. After how the day started, I would call today mildly successful.
Tomorrow is another day. Hopefully I can be in Mexico before sunrise.