The Potty

Here we go....

So my son Maddox just turned 2 on July 8th.  Of course it's a huge milestone...as is every other day of his life, according to me...but does that mean that all of the sudden he has to grow up?

Does he really have to stop taking a bottle in the morning? So what if it could cause his teeth to rot out?  They're baby teeth. They fall out anyway, right?

Does he really have to give up his beloved pacifier? Who cares if he's the only kid in preschool still sucking on his "ninny".  Not me.

Does he really have to learn that he can't poop and pee in his pants for the rest of his life and expect me to come running and happily sing songs about how much poopy diapers stink?  I mean, do I want to have a mild panic attack whenever he says he has to "go" and we aren't in the vicinity of a bathroom? No.  Do I want to carry around a portable potty so that he can poop in our car in case of an emergency? Hell no.

According to his pediatrician, yes to all of the above.  My answer to that....whateva.

So it starts.  We talk about poop and pee all day long.  Maddox follows me into the bathroom to watch me. And also to unravel the toilet paper.  Every time he goes in his diaper I say, "Oh wouldn't you rather use the big boy potty so that you can wear big boy underwear?"  His answer is to reach down and try to stick his finger in his butt hole. Awesome.

I talked to my husband about his whole potty training business and we decide to buy Madd a little Elmo potty, which he promptly stores all of his cars and trucks in.  A sure sign of readiness, no?

My approach is to make going to the potty sound exciting.  Inviting even.  "Whoo hoo!  Don't you love how mommy uses the potty like a big girl?  Look how fun it is to flush! You can have all the toilet paper you want if you use the potty! See daddy potty?  Daddy's a big boy. Do you want to be like daddy?"  You get the point.

My husband has a different approach.  The other day he and Maddox are playing and I'm on the computer.  The conversation goes like this:

Davey (my husband):  Maddox, no one likes to walk around with poop caked on their "C & B's".

Me:  Davey, why would you say something like that to him?

Davey:  What?  I'm potty training him.


Someone help.