The Mysteries of Using to Use a Toilet

Honestly, I do feel like I've been extremely blessed by the Fairy of Toilet Learning. In the past we've dabbled in the fun of leaning about poo and pee. We have a book, we've had a potty, and we talk, at length, about bodily functions and where poop and pee go, but it has always been more about entertainment purposes--a way to pass the time--than about actual potty learning. About a month ago, I woke up and told my kids, "You know what. Our washing machine isn't working. We don't have any diapers. I really need you to help me out and wear your big boy underpants and big girl panties." It was all true and they did!

I had previously purchased enough potties to equip the upstairs with two, the downstairs with two, and the car (got to love the $3 IKEA potty). That day, we went to Shopko and bought underwear and that was it. The first day Stuart peed his Thomas underpants. It was a catastrophe. Accidents were few and far between after that. Alison has been a little more tricky (yeah, about that boy being harder business, bah!). She is capable of holding her pee longer than Stu; she's just not all that converted to the idea. She casually tells me, "Oh, Mommy, it's okay. Don't worry. It will dwry." A few long discussion on the characteristics of pee, you know, the stinks after it dries and totally gross part, and she's on board.

They have been using their potties without prompting. We drove to Vegas and back, no problem. We haven't had an accident in over a week! They've been sleeping through 3+ hour naps, dry. I think, "God is blessing me for not throwing Alison and Stuart out the window all those times I wanted to in 2005."

Fast forward to today. After getting confident and happy (I even washed my diaper bags, banished them to the garage, and cut out material to make myself a new purse), we had not one, not two, but THREE accidents today. I'll spare you the gruesome details of the first two, but this is how number three played out. I. DON'T. UNDERSTAND. TWO. YEAR. OLDS.

We went to a bbq. I asked Alison a trillion times if she needs to go potty.

Crazy Mama: Do you need to go potty?
Alison: no
Crazy Mama: You sure?
Alison: No!
Crazy Mama: It's been a long time since you've been, are you sure?
Alison: [exasperated] Mommy! It's not coming yet.
Crazy Mama: Right. Well just tell me before it comes so we can find a potty.

We're all sitting at a picnic table. Ryan, Stuart, Alison & then me. I feel something very wet and large on my bum. Oddly it feels like I've peed my pants, only, I'm pretty sure I haven't had that problem since the days when I was pregnant, puking into my kitchen sink, violently, while I...oh yeah, I hadn't told you the full glamour of bringing these two angels into the world. I look down at Alison who then decides to tell me, "Mommy, I need to use a potty. I has lotsa pee." Yeah, I noticed that about the same time I noticed that I'm sitting downhill from you. So, Alison, who was wearing a dress, managed to stay miraculously dry but I got to walk around with a giant wet embarrassing rear.

Though I debated, I'm still going to keep them. I can't resist this pooping cuteness. My mom loved having Stuart do his business on her front porch while he watched trucks on her very busy street.