Potty Talk

Peyton has gone and done what I wanted him to do. That's right, he's essentially potty trained himself. You see, about a month ago, Ryan said it was high time to get rid of the diapers and work on the using the bathroom thing. I grudgingly agreed and finally had to admit something to myself too. The reason he wasn't potty trained yet wasn't because it didn't go well in our previous training rounds. It was because I wasn't putting (and I wasn't letting anyone else) much effort into it because I didn't want him to grow up. I wanted to keep him a baby. Keeping him in diapers was a good way of fooling myself into thinking that he was still one. The fact that he's practically wearing size 4 in boys clothes, has size 12 (in toddler sizes) feet, weighs 35 pounds, is 3 1/2 years old, is now in Primary at church and can pretty much use a computer on his own wasn't enough to make me let go of his babyness and potty train him. When I finally admitted to myself that I was the problem, I was able to let go (for the most part because it's so bittersweet) and let the training begin. Peyton took over after that and has pretty much been on track ever since. Notice, I did say "pretty much". He's had about 4 accidents. One yesterday, as a matter of fact.

I put him down for a nap without putting a diaper on him first. (He still has a little difficulty rousing himself from sleep to go, but I wanted to see what he would do. Could he wake up dry? I decided to live on the edge and find out.) Well, he decided it wasn't time to sleep, it was time to get out of bed and play and that's fine by me. Nap time, for me, is now more about getting a little break and quiet time. It's not really about sleeping anymore. I let him play away.

He peed in his pants while playing, but didn't let me know. Instead, he took his clothes off and went behind his rocking chair and pooped on the carpet to finish the job. A lovely odor started wafting out of his room and so I had to go in to investigate. He was butt naked and happily playing away. I asked, "alright, where's your poopy underwear?" He said, all disgusted, "I didn't poop in my underwear! I pooped on the floor behind my chair". I checked and only saw streaks on the carpet. I told him there wasn't any poop there and again asked where the poopy underwear was. He said, "I said I didn't poop in my underwear! I pooped on the floor. I cleaned it up for you with my bulldozer. I didn't want to leave it on the carpet". Sure enough, when I picked up his small, toy Caterpillar bulldozer, I found a scoop full of poop. Lovely.

So, accidents like that aside, he's pretty much trained. And....I'm pretty much okay with it. I think. Maybe I have a little way to go, but I'll get there eventually.