When we learned that I was pregnant with Sweetboy, we immediately started putting Crazytown on the toilet. She was about a year old and happily peed if we timed it right. We hoped that it would make the “real thing” a little easier when the time came, and it has, for the most part. Fifteen months later, she is finally initiating the bathroom trips. It took a while, but it was never stressful. She has recently realized that if she mentions the potty, Dave or I will most likely drop everything and run. And she’s trying to use it to her advantage, most often while stuck in the high chair. (We’re trying to move on from the high chair, but sometimes she just needs to be restrained.)
So tonight, an hour after bedtime, I heard her start talking. I couldn’t understand at first, but pretty soon it turned into, “Mommy! Mommy! Mommay! Mommayyyyy!” I rolled my eyes and went back to washing dishes. Then, “I have to go potty!” Sure you do. “I have to go potty! Mommy! I have to go pottayyyyyy!” Maybe it’s the real thing. I went in and had this conversation:
“What’s wrong? Do you have to pee?”
“I want that cat.”
“No, you have enough animals. Do you have to go potty?”
“I want a book.”
Uh huh. Just what I thought.
So I fixed her blankets and animals, sang a song, and turned to leave.
“Oh, pray! We should pray!”
So I prayed…and fixed her blankets and animals, sang a song, and went back downstairs. She quickly started up again. “Mommy! Mommy! I have to go potty!” The screeching escalated to wailing and sobbing and gnashing of teeth. “Mommmmmmaaaaayyyyyyyyy! I have to go POTTY!” I trudged up the stairs thinking something along the lines of, You want to go potty? I’ll put you on the potty. Let’s see how you like getting out of your cozy crib and going into the cold bathroom.
She peed. A lot. And I apologized. We did the bedtime routine again, and she went right to sleep.
Potty training is awesome.