Somehow we made it through three days of potty bootcamp together and have re-entered society twice. I’ll admit, I thought I was going to lose my mind several times along the way. Not because of accidents or pee on the kitchen floor. It was the isolation. I felt trapped. The fact that all our carpets were covered by plastic tarps didn’t help with the sensation of mania either.
I see clearly the advantages of being in your home venue for 3 days, of having your child throw away all their diapers, of giving them the power to speak up by saying “Tell mama when you have to go poo or pee,” and of catching them in the act of accidents. It all makes sense. But good Lord, it’s mentally exhausting. It was much easier to withstand when I was doing it for someone else’s kid as a nanny and 10 years younger. I will say that it does give you the fortitude to never go back, though. After Day 1, I was so happy to never have to do Day 1 again. On Day 3, I thought Day 2 was for suckers.
Back to the story. By Day 2 something had clicked. She had two pee accidents right off the bat in the morning but was clean and dry the rest of the day. (I overruled her decision to skip pull-ups at night for reasons of style and pride. She woke up in the middle of the night between Day 1 and 2 soaking wet and very upset. Changing sheets, blankets and pajamas in the dark at 4 a.m. won’t be happening again. I have, however, acquiesced and allowed her to wear undies and not pull-ups for naps. She’s been dry so far and I figured throwing a little confidence her way may help.)
Day 3 felt glorious in a shut-in, nut-house kind of way. Not only were we over half-way through the process, but she started telling me when she needed to go rather than me constantly asking her to tell me when she needed to go, over and over and over. I felt like an obsessive parrot who picked up a copy of this potty training manual and couldn’t let go.
As we closed down Day 3, I started to worry. What am I going to do tomorrow? There is no manual for the fourth day of this adventure. She didn’t have any accidents on Day 3 but we were always within 4 seconds of a bathroom. How do I leave her side, the house, the driveway?
And, then the reality of Day 4 came when she pooped in her undies right after breakfast because she was so engrossed in watching a guy mow his lawn outside. I realized that, no, I no longer have to carry diapers in my purse (hooray) but now I have to carry two outfits in case of an accident. I also just ordered a fold-able, travel potty for the car in case we are out at a park and nature calls. It will get easier, I know. The limbo period is what’s going to put me on tilt.
So, what does an All-American family do to get out of the house on the Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend with a newly potty trained toddler? They go to IKEA where the bathroom opportunities are a plenty and no one will notice if you have to wipe up a puddle under your daughter.
The real fun will happen when I get on a plane with her on Friday.
stinkerbean 
