Potty Training...Take Two.

Well, we decided it was time. Time to start the difficult process of potty training. About a week ago I asked my babysitter if Cale was getting low on diapers and she said that she really thought he was ready to make the leap. We've played around with using the 'potty' but I had planned on really starting this summer anyway, so here we are in the midst of big boy underwear...daddy insisted we start calling them underwear instead of 'panties' as Cale refers to them. The hardest thing for me has been remembering to have Cale go every 20 minutes or so. I failed miserably in the beginning. After a few days, it has finally become a little more natural. Now, don't get me wrong. We've had plenty of accidents. Mostly accidents of the worst kind...number two. Yesterday I was putting Keaton down for a mid-morning nap. I'm always a little nervous about what Cale is doing in the other room while I am getting Keaton to sleep. But, there's no way Keaton will go to sleep with Cale screaming and playing drums and bouncing around everywhere. When I came out of Keaton's room, I couldn't find Cale. Finally, I noticed the door to the garage was not quite closed all the way. (It's scary that Cale can open our doors and has even figured out how to unlock them) I stepped into the garage to find Cale in his most favorite spot...sitting on the lawn mower. It only took me a few seconds to notice the trail of liquid that followed him to the mower. I knew what must have happened, but when Cale climbed down from the mower, I noticed a big,saggy lump in the leg of his tight pajama pants. Already knowing the answer, I asked him what had happened. I can't explain the look Cale gets when he goes to the bathroom in his pants and is caught. It's a mixture of embarrassment combined with a lot of trying-to-be-cute, and topped off with a heaping spoonful of stubborness. So, I threatened to throw away his Christmas pajama pants (yes, we're still wearing the Christmas pj's because he loves them) Well, of course he got very upset. He said "You can't throw them away. Trash goes in there!" I tried to explain to him that poop-filled pants are equal to trash, but he didn't see it that way. So needless to say I took the poop filled pants out to the grass and sprayed them off with a water hose before covering them with half a bottle of Shout and putting them in the wash.

Later that morning, Keaton and I were sitting on the porch as Cale played at his playhouse out in the yard. I was feeding Keaton and talking on the phone with my mom. All of the sudden I heard Cale say, "The poo-poo came out" I looked up, dreading the worst. But, what I see is Cale, standing with his underwear half-way down staring at the ground. I ran out to see if he really did it. Sure enough, there was a pile right there on the ground. There was also a pile in his underwear (guess he didn't get them off quickly enough) But, I didn't care! I was just excited that he attempted to pull his pants down and go. I ran in to get some wipes. What didn't occur to me was...toddler left outside with a pile of poop and a tractor with a front end loader...bad idea. Cale decided to drive his tractor through the poop. Multiple times. So, he and tractor got hosed off in the yard. That tractor is now strictly an outdoor ONLY tractor.

The rest of the day was really a success. Cale didn't have any more accidents and he even began telling me when he needed to go. Feeling brave, we even went and did some things in town with Cale wearing underwear instead of a diaper. No accidents. He's still a long way from really being trained. But, we're off to a good start. And I've finally trained myself to be conscious of his bathroom visits. So, at least one of us is trained.

Oh and on a side note, the best potty training advice we've been given? Don't ask Cale if he needs to go...at least not in the beginning. Just scoop him up and take him. This works much better, because if we left it up to Cale he would rarely quit playing to go. So, I don't even say anything about where we're going. He figures it out once we're in the bathroom, but usually doesn't put up a fight. He just gives in and goes. Which is a huge improvement on the screaming fit he used to throw when we would make a big ordeal of going.