“I did it!”

February 22, 2012

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Ahhh….The sweet sound of a toddler on her way to big girl pants.

Princess Lo on her throne.

Potty training.


I started potty training my first child at 8 months, at the insistence of my own Mother that I was potty trained by then as a child.  I now know without a shred of doubt that if that’s true I was a potty training prodigy…and my first born was not.

Poor Brianne.  Barely able to sit up on her own, yet every morning I sat her on her musical potty to take care of biz while watching cartoons.  She actually fell and bumped her head on the floor once.  A+ parenting, Megan.

If the modern-day realists take on the issue is spot on, I now know without a shred of a doubt that my child was completely normal in potty training herself by age 2.  It took a lot of unnecessary stress and worry to come to these conclusions (Potty Training in a Day books, dolls that pee, running around with no pants on… which equaled cleaning up pee puddles all day for me…), but at least I got there.

After almost 2 years of that madness I barely wanted to use the toilet myself.  Then, one day right around her 2nd Birthday, my daughter tugs on my pant leg and simply states:

“I want to wear big girl pants, now, Mommy.”

She never wore a diaper again…(well, at night for my paranoia, but never wet them.) and I vowed never to enforce another potty training technique in my house ever….ever…again.

Brianne, 1 1/2. 'Tired' of potty training.

Lucky Lo, second child, has never been bothered a day in her life to use the potty.  I was shocked when, at a year an a half, she runs up to me yelling, “PEE POTTY POO, MOM!  PEE POTTY POO!”  Before I could clearly make the words out, I thought it was my mind playing Jedi potty training mind games on me, and literally ignored her.  Casting her off as way to young to take on the task, yet.

One afternoon, I saw her fly into her sister’s room on a mission.  She resurfaced with a Mickey Mouse book and made a be-line for the bathroom.  “No way,”  I thought.  “No freaking way.”  Finally, I obliged her wishes and took her to the bathroom at her request.  And she went.  On the toilet.  Babbling through her book with a grunt here and there…and then…



She doesn’t always make it in time, and I”m pretty sure big sister’s influence has a lot to do with it, but I’ll be if that kid isn’t figuring it out all by herself…with very little help from me.  Could it be that the ‘Potty Training Biz’ is just as much of a racket as the ‘Car Seat Biz?’

Now if I could only channel her enthusiasm towards waving goodbye to the poo as it flushes towards the hand washing part…to which her current response is:


I guess I can put up with a constant unraveling of the toilet paper roll if potty training for Lo is going to be this easy.

Happy Potty Training Escapades!


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