The first time I had toddlers, one of the things I was always hearing people obsess over was potty training “readiness.” I wasn’t wringing my hands over it quite as much as some people I knew, but still, it was a big topic of conversation in the parents-of-two-year-olds set. Dry diapers in the morning, a certain body awareness, probably even some particular arrangement of tea leaves were all cited as being “ready” for potty training. I don’t think I paid much attention, I just up and decided to rip off the band-aid one weekend and went all boot-camp with Rebecca. Though it felt unbelievably stressful at the time, she picked it up quickly and my job was relatively easy. Daniel, well, that was an entirely different story. Were they showing me signs of “readiness?” Eh, who knows. Probably not. But they were two-and-a-half and heading towards preschool, so it was time and we did it.
There was less than a year that I was free from the world of diaper changes, and then came Ellie. Honestly? Diapers aren’t that bad. I don’t mind changing them, it’s not really that much of a hassle in the grand scheme of things. Sure, eventually I’ll have to potty-train Ellie, but I’ve been down this road before, and seriously, what’s the rush?
Yeah. Try telling that to her.
I swear, every third word out of her mouth is “potty,” “bathroom,” “diaper,” or “change.” For a long time, I’ve been sticking my fingers in my ears and singing LA LA LA LA because I just cannot add potty training to my list of daily responsibilities. And honestly, I think she originally thought “potty” meant “get down from the table,” because that’s what her brother and sister always did at dinner when they used that word.
But I think I underestimate this clever little girl of mine. I am too quick to assume she doesn’t get it. I’m starting to fear that, in this case, she actually might. She might be all but freaking BEGGING me to potty train her. And sure, yes, it would be lovely to cancel that particular Subscribe-and-Save order on Amazon. Having a diaper-free house would be quite something. But the process of getting there? Always having a change of clothes and a portable potty and having to DROP EVERYTHING as soon as she says the word? Oh, I could really do without that part.
But it’s getting to the point that I can’t deny it. I can’t pretend I don’t hear her saying it ALL THE TIME. It’s time to give it a go and see if she’s actually… ready. So now I have to go to Target and get a damn potty, and a few packages of cheap underwear that will be absurdly large on her teeny-tiny, maybe-she’ll-grow-into-size-2T-when-she’s-5 little bum.
Ugh. It’s a good thing she’s cute.