Potty Training is for the BIRDS!

I’m jumping ship.  I’m done.  We are potty training no more.  He’ll be going in the potty before he gets to college I promise. 

Ok, let me start over.  I haven’t yet begun PT because I don’t know how.  I’m certain James is not ready for it, nor does he care the least bit about it.  He enjoys flushing and washing his hands with “soup” (soap for us English speaking types), but that’s about as far as it goes.  He does enjoy a good Paula Deen magazine while tending to his business, but the business end of it isn’t so exciting for him.

So far, I’ve basically been catching him in the *act* – you know beet red face, grunting noises and such, and I wisk him across the hall to the potty.  Sometimes I get it sometimes I don’t but I’d like to think that maybe someday he’ll put it all together that we’d rather have that business in the potty than in a diaper.  Well, today I wondered if I actually did want it in the potty.  The diaper is a one stop type of a thing and I can have everything contained and take it off, put a new one on and it hardly interrupts an entire minute.

Today like every other time that I don’t have my hands full and James starts showing the classic symptoms of needing the potty I brought him in.  Once we were in there I realize that the deed had been done, but not to dissappoint my little boy I took off his diaper and set him on the potty.  He set his sippy on the baseboard heater and perused through the latest Coastal Living magazine.  He then reached over to get said sippy and it fell and rolled.  So he slid off the potty after it.  (yes, he slid it’s 3″ off the ground but he slid anyway)  That’s when I realized that he wasn’t done in the diaper – he finished as he was slidding off the potty.  I quickly and VERY carefully snatched him up – made him touch his toes so I could clean his half of the mess – whisked him off to put a fresh diaper on and locked him in the playroom.  When I turned around and saw what awaited me I nearly died.

It was a mess that one would associate with the job of zoo keeper.  There was poo all down the side of the potty, in the grooves of the handles on the potty seat.  Not an ounce of poo in the potty at all.  10 min. and 1/2 of a container of Lysol wipes later I came out of the bathroom waving my white flag.  I surreneder.  We will be buying diapers for the rest of our lives.  Or at least the next few years.  I’m sure some day he’ll want that nasty thing off of him, but for now I think we are both happy it’s there.

---