Wednesday, April 10, 2013

And then...

Last night, Peyton came to me and said "I go pee pees from da wee wee!" (Sidenote: Thanks so much to daddy for teaching him that classy phrase.) Then he pointed at the toilet. Anxious to follow his lead, I said "You want to go in the big potty?" and he said "Yes!" so we went in the bathroom. We aren't trying to officially potty train him with a couple of weeks until a new baby comes, but if he's going to lead the way, I'm not going to tell him not to use the toilet. I am not insane.
He pulled the stepstool in front of the toilet and I took off his diaper. He stood there staring at the bowl for a while.
Then he said "I want da Elmo seat."
So I got out the Elmo potty seat and helped him sit down.
Then he sat there a while kicking his legs. After a minute or so, I asked if he was done and he said no and continued to just sit there.
Then he asked for some cars to play with. So I got him some cars, and he continued to sit there, playing with cars, doing nothing else.
Then he announced "I done!" which I assume meant done playing with cars because he still hadn't done a darn thing bodily function-wise. That didn't stop him from grabbing toilet paper to practice wiping, and then flushing the toilet.
Then I turned my back to get a new diaper and he took advantage of the opportunity to run away naked.
He ran into my bedroom, into my bathroom, and then, he peed on the floor squarely in front of my toilet.

And that, my friends, perfectly sums up why I hate potty training.
An exercise in frustration if ever there was one.

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