Christmas Resolution

I am sick of talking about potty training.  I am sick of thinking about potty training.  Frankly, I'm sick of even typing the word "potty" on this ridiculous blog, because at each mention of toilet training progress (see what I did there?) we take a huge step backward.

That is normal, I know.  In fact, I feel like I know all there is to know on the subject.  I've read all of the books and I've wiped more infantile behinds than a nurse in Pediatrics, but none of those sources accurate relay the degree of complete and utter frustration that accompany the painstaking process of getting my son out of diapers.

I'm still avoiding that word.

So I went back through old photos and posts to see just exactly when Cael mastered the art, and discovered that, after bribery didn't work, simply yanking a pair of underpants onto his cheeks was incentive enough to keep himself dry.  Within a couple of weeks after his third birthday, I patted myself on the shoulder and pitched the diapers into the trash can.



Cael's diapers, that is.  Graham might just wear diapers until the end of time.

I tried bribery.

"Graham, if you go pee on the potty, I will give you some M&Ms!"

"No thanks, Mommy.  I like cookies better."

I've tried trickery.

"You have to wear big boy underpants when you wear corduroy.  It's a law."

"Mommy, Mickey is on my bottom!  He-- oh... Mickey is wet.  Did he take a bath?"

I've even tried timing out his liquid intake and, ahem, output, to plop him on the potty at the precise time of elimination, but that was about as effective as giving up and making him a cozy pan of newspaper strips in which to squat.

But until recently I didn't really hit rock bottom.  At the end of October, we ran out of diapers despite the fact that I was sure I'd purchased a big box at the beginning of the month.  So I did some simple diaper math.

1 jumbo box of diapers @ $19.97 each month for 37 months = $738.89

That figure is probably being conservative, because during the first 6 months of his life, Graham pooped in a much higher weight class and may have gone through twice as many diapers.  But even these figures gave me chills.  We've spent nearly $1,000 on receptacles to store and seal our child's poop, but I feel guilty about buying a new eyeshadow?

 

And that is how the resolution was born.

I'd call it a New Year's resolution, but I am impatient and I want this potty training business completed before Christmas.  So from now on, the 31 diapers I have left are for overnight use only, and during the day Graham's bottom will either be draped with underpants, or be bare on the plush cushion of his training potty, which I have generously parked in front of the television so that he can sit still and learn the sensations that will eventually save me thousands of dollars.

It's going well so far, and Graham's perpetual potty state means that he can be found squatting in nearly all of our holiday and birthday photos, like an uncomfortably under-dressed Waldo.

I will be sure to keep you all posted on his progress, and I will look forward to telling you of his toilet mastery.  And he had better hold up his end of the bargain, because now there are only 30 diapers left, and most of the towels in my house are kinda scratchy...