Letter to a Home Town - The Seemingly Endless Journey of Potty Training

Our sleep anywhere girl...

 

It is never going to end! I am almost sure of it: Potty training is an everlasting process and I am destined to have a key role in keeping that little bottom clean for all of eternity. I know it isn’t true, but gads, it sure does feel that way. We have been actively potty training for more than half of the Figlet’s short life!

The duration is, in many ways, our own fault. The interest was there early, so we jumped at the opportunity. We set the potty up in back corner of the kitchen (the room central to it all). We had a few no pants days. Much to our surprise, it worked. It wasn’t 100% but she started using the potty pretty regularly. It was cause for celebration! We danced. We sang. We composed odes to the long forgotten diapers of yore. But then the weather got cold. Pants became more essential. She had trouble getting them down. More importantly, Figlet got bored and digressed. She wasn’t as ready as we’d hoped.

Sometimes I think that those guys that wear their pants down around their thighs are mocking me. They know how much bare bottom I have seen. Somehow they sense it. They know how happy I would be to never again have to deal with anyone rushing with pants round knees, leaving a dribble trail en route to the potty. They sense my fleeting hope of it ever ending and threaten to drop trou just to rub it in.

When warm weather arrived, her interest began to rekindle. The dusty potty in the kitchen corner saw increasingly regular use. The diaper count dwindled to half what it had once been, remaining essential only for overnights and outings. The potty traveled with us when we went away for a few days but was largely ignored. Using the potty was a home thing, which was progress. But then it wasn’t. It was just a stand still.  

When it comes to potty training, my present self laughs at the self of the recent past. You thought THAT was going to be the last case of diapers you’d buy?! You thought that pull ups would be anything more than poorly fitting diapers that are a pain to get on? You thought that calling training pants ‘fancy pants’ it would be incentive to keep them dry? You thought that you’d be done with this by now? Bwah, ha, ha! You have been through this before! You should have known that the Figlet would dash such dreams into a puddle on the floor - repeatedly!

I do know that potty training won’t last forever. The Figlet is making progress again. At home and on short outings ‘fancy pants’ are the rule. Accidents happen. When they do, I give our washing machine a little hug, the then remind myself the potty training golden rule: It will be over before her college applications are due.

I hope that this letter has found you and yours in good spirits and good health. Until I write again…