Abby has been in the process of potty training for a while now. Some days I would say, “F-yeah! This is going awesome!” because she seems to be doing so well and other days it feels like I am fighting a losing battle. Sometimes 5:00 a.m. seems too early to deal with shit that isn’t mine.
Take yesterday morning, for example. Abby sat on the toilet every half hour after waking. Each time we sat for several minutes, talking, reading books, singing songs, etc., but not once did she actually use the potty. Ok, fine, that’s cool. But each time she left the bathroom she either peed or pooped in her pull-up right away.
Last night as I was cooking supper she ran into the kitchen with one side of her pull-up flapping in the wind, shouting “Poop! Mommy, poop!” before running to the bathroom. I ran after her with food covered hands praying that poop hadn’t and wouldn’t leave a trail behind her. Luckily, it turns out that she had just peed and had started removing her pull-up.
The evening before she was sitting on the toilet and I needed to go around the corner to get some wipes. She had pooped in her diaper but said that she still needed to go more so she was on the potty. I needed a wipe because she had poop all over her bottom. I was gone for less than thirty seconds, but in that time she had hopped off of the toilet and began fingerpainting all over the toilet with poop. That was fun to clean up.
I’m glad I am not squeamish about bodily fluids. I am glad I am past the point in my pregnancy where all things poop made me puke, or we’d really be in trouble. I know it is going to take time. I know that she is learning. I know she is on the verge of turning two. No matter how hard it is we will trudge on and get through it.