Same Old Song & Dance

It was Emma’s idea really.

Potty training Piper while I was not at home.

I wasn’t prepared.

Emma wasn’t daunted.  She just popped Finn into Beckett’s boxer shorts and set off.

(What?  You think you recall hearing somewhere that I have tried this before?  Yeah.  You’re right.  And you’re also a pretty diligent fan of this wee blog if you remember that!  Anyway.  The last episode?  Well, it just had no sticking power.  Or I had no consistency.  Or the same.)

Setbacks?

Sure.

There was poop that never made it to the toilet.

Bergen insists that Piper peed on the barn floor without our knowledge.  (It’s probably true.  I haven’t actually investigated.  Maybe I should have.  I probably should have.  I definitely should have.)

I finally went to the store and purchased Willow her own pack of underwear – or “unders” as she refers to them.  She wanted ones with princesses and flowers on them.  But that’s a pretty specific order and it was one I could not exactly fulfill.  I chose hearts and flowers and maybe stars.  I don’t know really.  But I do know that Sally and I squatted for far too long in the underwear section pondering that decision.  And we were at Wal-Mart.  (Yikes! I  know.  I  know.  But it’s a small town here.  And the only other option was Rose’s.  (Anyone recognize that establishment?)

So.

I guess you’d call potty training in Virginia a Mostly Successful Venture.

More hits than misses.

More clean unders than soiled.

We still haven’t made it through a nap time without a pull up.  (But that’s okay.)

And of course Finn sleeps in a pull up – because who wants that wake-up call?  (But that’s okay.)

I’m pretty sure when I leave the safety of our home I’ll stick a pull up on her wee cute bum.  (But that’s okay.)

Maybe if I had one kid I would accept the challenge of public unders.  Maybe if I had two kids I would take that risk.  But I have six kids.  (Remember?)  Six.  Kids.  And if one of those kids decides to accidentally poop on herself while we are shopping at Target I absolutely do not care to be in the position of being required to remedy that situation in a public restroom with many mini onlookers and helpers.  So I choose the pull up.  (And that’s okay.)

At any rate . . .

I think we are on our way.

On our way to one less kid in diapers.

And that is better than okay!