I know I’ve made various claims about trying again to potty-train Daniel over the last few months, but the truth is that each was a half-hearted attempt that fizzled out as blandly as it began.  I didn’t have the mental fortitude to commit, and Daniel’s interest was passing, at best.

While I know there are plenty of kids, boys especially, who train at an older age, I was just plain tired of changing Daniel’s diaper.  It was clear to me that he was capable of using the potty, if perhaps a little under-motivated.  And, with preschool starting up in the fall, I know they would prefer that he be trained, so I at least wanted to make another serious attempt before then.

Sunday night, I looked at my calendar for the week, and then for the next six.  I realized we are completely between activities at the moment, and had literally nothing on the calendar for this week.  But, after this week, things start to really pick up again.  New classes, big outings, travel, the whole nine yards.  It was very obvious that this was the biggest stretch of free time we will have until probably mid-August.  Time to suck it up, Mama.

And so, this week has been Potty Boot Camp, Take 2 (or whatever “take” I’m on now, lord only knows).  The first day was, in a word, discouraging.  What bothered me the most is that the accidents didn’t seem to phase him in the least.  Especially the poop ones!  And there is nothing quite so delightful as trying to remove and clean a pair of toddler-sized underwear full of poop.  Wow.

But I changed my reward strategy this time.  No M&M jar (not only ineffective, but AWFUL for me to have them around), but a sticker chart.  Earn five stickers (and yes, I’ll give them out for as little as about half a teaspoon worth of pee in the potty), and you get a special treat.  Popsicle, ice cream, Trader Joe’s star cookies.  Your choice.  And to try to keep Rebecca invested in the process (and not resentful of the attention Daniel was getting), she got a treat when he earned his five stickers, too.  My little mama-girl thought it was great that she could “help teach Daniel to use the potty.”

And…

Progress. Dare I say, some enthusiasm.  Initially, there was certainly happiness over the stickers and the potential for popsicles, but a notable lack of disappointment when an accident would cause him to not earn a Thomas or Cars sticker.  But in the last day or two, I feel like I’ve noticed a subtle shift.  He seems to be shifting from “poop anywhere, anytime, in the undies, who cares?” to “save it for the naptime diaper.”  In my world, that’s a notable improvement, and one I can totally work with.  And, though he might sometimes poop in the diaper, I’ve noticed it suddenly staying dry…  This morning, as I was downstairs psyching myself up for an early-morning run, I hear a door and footsteps.  I waited.  A few minutes later, down comes Daniel, looking for me.  Pajama bottoms and (dry) diaper in hand, informing me he had gotten up to use the potty.

I could care less that it was 45 minutes before his Good Nite Lite was scheduled to turn yellow, that was a HUGE freaking breakthrough.

Other accomplishments this week include staying dry at: Trader Joe’s (where we have an unfortunate history of Daniel and poop accidents), the MOVIE THEATER (he sat through the entirety of Toy Story 3, told me he needed to use the potty with two minutes to go, and actually waited for the credits before we bolted for the bathroom!), and an entire morning at the playground.

It really feels like we’re turning a corner, thankfully.  And, to be fair, I think my mindset is different this time around.  The first time I did boot camp with Daniel, I had done the same with Rebecca only a couple of weeks earlier.  For one thing, she was relatively easy to train and I was able to back off of her relatively quickly, once I could tell she “got it.”  Daniel seemed to “get it,” and then had an enormous backslide about a week later.  I couldn’t handle all of that mess and the inability to go about our usual business, especially combined with the fact that Rebecca, while pretty reliable, was still fairly high-maintenance on the potty.

This time around, I barely have to think about Rebecca at all. She’s almost entirely self-sufficient on the potty and, despite a strange uptick in overnight accidents, is very low-maintenance.  Not only do I have a bit more energy to focus on Daniel, but I have also shifted the mindset and know that I’m going to have to stay a lot more proactive with him for a lot longer.  While I’ve noticed major improvements, he’s always been the kind of kid who gets very easily distracted and, when involved in one thing, kind of tunes everything else out.  So, if I’m constantly nearby and asking him if he needs to use the potty, and asking how the undies are doing (“clean and dry!”), he’s good about stopping and telling me.  If I leave him to do his own thing for a while, that’s when I’m more likely to see an accident.  Forgive the comparison, but it reminds me a line about house-training puppies in a book I read when I first got our dog: “If they have an accident, you’ve given them too much freedom, too soon.”  And while there are certainly more complexities to potty-training a kid than housebreaking a dog, there’s an aspect of that that rings pretty true.

Though, seriously, crate-training was awfully effective. Are you sure I can’t do that with toddlers?

I know this isn’t over.  I know he’s not going to be the same as Rebecca.  But I am cautiously optimistic that we are on a good path, and I’m very much hoping that the move to underwear is a permanent one.

O hai.

Guess what? Potty training hasn’t killed me! I’m not sure I yet believe that it has, in any way, made me stronger. But I’m not dead yet.

As I talked about on HDYDI today, we went for the cold-turkey approach with Becca.  I more or less followed the advice given in the 3-Day Potty Training eBook.  Saturday morning, we said goodbye to diapers and put her in underwear.  I was then glued to her side for the next three days.

Holy shit, is that exhausting.

So, I kind of pride myself on having fairly independent kids. While I’m obviously with them all the time, we get out to a lot of classes and activities where they can do their own thing. I don’t usually spend an entire day attempting to entertain them.

In order to really devote my attention to Becca, I sent M out with Daniel for as much of the weekend as possible.  M did a great job, took Daniel all over the place, and they really had a great time. I think it was a nice weekend for both of them, and I was glad to not have any extra distractions. I highly recommend doing the same if you find yourself trying to do potty boot camp with one kid and not another.

We did pretty much whatever she felt like doing. Stamps, finger painting, puzzles, books, an extra episode of TV here and there.  I really wanted to pick my battles selectively and not get into too many avoidable discipline situations, so it was kind of anything-goes for activities.  As long as it involved staying in the house.

Anyways, if I tell you the first day by the numbers, it won’t sound so bad: one success, three or four accidents.  Yep, that’s it.  My girl can, and does, hold it.  I suspect that, in the long term, this will prove to be a very good thing.  But in trying to train her, it doesn’t provide a lot of “teachable moments.”  It’s a lot of waiting, waiting, waiting… staring… asking… suggesting… building tension… and then an accident.  So, while there was not a lot of clean-up to deal with, there also was no sense of learning or progress.

And I had a wicked knot in my shoulder and tension headache. Apparently you hold your head in a weird position when staring at a 2-year-old all day.

Day two was, in a word, frustrating.  Again, she can hold it for hours, so it’s a lot of waiting for a single event. Still, not a lot of messes. But also not many chances for success and reinforcement.  It was particularly frustrating as I watched her squirm and dance around and stall and distract and delay around lunchtime, when I knew she needed to go. She sat on the potty several times, to no avail.  Forcing her to stay put seemed like the wrong approach, but as soon as she was happily playing with trains… accident.  Argh.

In the meantime, she was clearly a little stressed by this big transition, and/or had picked up on the fact that I was trying to choose my battles.  Her behavior went, pardon the expression, down the toilet. Sass, attitude, throwing things, grabbing things. I went back to our usual counting of poor behavior and things got a touch better.  But a late-day accident sent her into over-dramatic wails.  In a sense, I was sort of glad to see that having the accident bothered her, but the histrionics were really not what I was in the mood to deal with.

At the end of day two, I was beyond tired and frustrated and wanted to throw in the towel. After a little time to space out and cool off after the kids went to bed, I talked it over with M and we agreed that this is a no-going-back kind of approach. If we give up and do diapers again, we lose our credibility for the next time. Best to just suck it up.

Going into today, day three, I was both steeled and nervous. No longer could I send Daniel off for the day with M, so now I had both kids cooped up in the house for another day, only one of whom was potty training.  But we may be on the upswing.  Morning had two successes and no accidents.  The naptime Pull-Up was dry (yes, we’re using Pull-Ups for nap and bedtime).  There was a late-afternoon accident that I tried to prevent but didn’t quite make it, and then another success before bedtime.  Three-to-one, the balance swung back in the right direction. Plus, the kids could entertain each other, so I could simply supervise much of the time instead of constantly playing cruise director.

Still tired, but spirits improving. I hesitate to call it an unqualified win, as all of today’s successes were led by me. I have yet to have her just stop, tell me she needs to use the potty, and then do so.  It’s been a lot of me watching her for signs of pausing, agitation, or other clues that she needs to go.  Sometimes she’ll decide to give it a shot, sometimes not.

That said, I declare Rebecca done with diapers. We aren’t going back. It will continue to be a work in progress, obviously, but she is now in underwear during waking hours.

And, so help me God, we are leaving the damned house tomorrow.  All of this staying in goes completely counter to my entire parenting ethos.  Playdate, here we come.

I’ll bring a change of clothes.