I have a potty-trained boy.
I still can’t believe it, but it’s true. Mace potty-trained in three days. Not only have we been accident-free since Sunday afternoon, but he’s been doing it 100% on his own. No putting him on the toilet every 45 minutes, nothing. He tells us, we head to the washroom, and he goes. End of story. No accidents at naptime, and only one accident at nighttime thus far.
Again … Holy. Eff.
I honestly can’t explain it. True, we were following a method titled “3 Day Potty Training”, but my gut told me it would take much longer. And yet here we are.
I’ve already posted this on my (personal) Facebook, and had a number of people ask how we did it (for those of you who don’t care, just skip to the next paragraph). As I’d mentioned in my post a while back, the 3 Day Potty Training method is basically balls-to-the-wall, no-holds-barred, get-down-and-dirty stuff. You drop all diapers, switch to underwear (and no pants), load your kid up on salty food and, hence, tons of liquid, and just let ‘er rip for three days (figuratively and literally). Its recommended you stay home the whole time (we didn’t), and follow your child around all day waiting for them to have an accident. No putting them on the potty every 45 minutes, no asking them if they need to pee … all you’re “allowed” to do is remind them, over and over and over again to “Let mommy know when you need to use the toilet, ok?”. When they do have their eventual accident(s), you pick them up and run them to the toilet so they can hopefully finish on there. And … thats about it.
Whoever designed this method noted that most kids won’t “get it” until the end of the third day, and what do you know … at 4pm on Sunday (the end of the *gasp* third day!) Mace ran up to Jamie while outside and said “Daddy, I hafta go to de bafroom”.
Boom. In like flint.
Is it bad that I’m just slightly disappointed nothing truly hilarious happened throughout all of this? I thought I’d have material for days for the blog, but no. My kid had to do it (relatively) tidily and efficiently.
As I’d worried about in that first post, we did have a urine-spraying-the-wall incident, but that was more due to my over-exuberance in getting Mace to the toilet during one particular pee episode. Jamie came following behind me with what we’d coined “The Pee Towel” for cleanup, saying “Jesus, Andra. Did you spin him in a circle when you were carrying him? There’s piss everywhere!”. And he was right. I’d somehow managed to make an Arc of Urine with Mason’s body over our entire kitchen, from the floors to the counters to, yes, even the walls in my rush to the bathroom. Uh …. yuck?
Potty training has also sent Jamie’s and my conversations in directions we’d previously never imagined. Aside from uttering sentences like “You wipe his bum, I’ll wipe the floor”, we can now mark down in our Couple’s Book ‘O Memories the time we had a rather excited discussion about Mason’s first poop on the toilet. I, having missed the grand event, was eagerly pumping Jamie for deets:
Me: “So, like, how did he say it when he told you he had to go? Was he all “Daddy, I have to go poop”? Or was it more “Daddy! I have to go poop!”?”
Jamie: “Ok, so we were outside building the fence when all of a sudden he said “Daddy, I have to go to the bathroom!”. And then I ran him in, and he went!”
Me: “Oh my god, thats so amazing!”
Jamie: “I know! I was totally impressed!”
And then we gazed joyfully at the afore-mentioned poop in the toilet, and congratulated each other on having such a prodigious child.
I’ve said it before, but we used to be cool.
Oh, and my great idea of the Potty Wand?
Yeeeaaaaaahhh …. that lasted about 5 minutes and nearly blinded my youngest in the process. Whaddya know, sticks and toddlers aren’t safe for people’s eyes. Take note, everyone!
So thats my update. Either we’re wicked-awesome at potty training or Mace was clearly ready to do it (I know which one I’m leaning towards). Now we’re contending with the after-effects, such as adding 10 minutes to our getting-out-the-door routine and the addition to Mason’s bedtime stall tactics (“Mooommmmm! I hafta go to de bafroom again! I promise dis time!”), but the hard part is over.
Just wondering though …. when can I expect Jamie’s and my conversations to move away from the literal toilet? ‘Cause I’ll tell you, people get pissed when you ruin their dinner with excrement talk.