To the Potty! Or...Not

Yesterday I was freaking out on Twitter about the fact that at this point when we have a second kid there will be at least three years in between Charlotte and her sibling. Everyone was quick to reassure me that it will be fine, that they know plenty of people with kids three and four years apart who get along just fine, and most importantly, many people reminded me how much easier it will be to have a baby with a slightly older child who can help.

My sister and I are two years apart, and most everyone I know has kids anywhere from fourteen months to two years apart, so in a way it's all I know and the reason I felt like I wanted to do it that way. But, in the end I realized that while a closer spacing might work well for some families, for our family it's probably best to let Charlotte get a little older. Right now she has no interest in babies, unless you count her interest in being really mean to her baby doll. She's also extremely high maintenance, volatile, jealous, and above all, STILL IN DIAPERS.

That's right. At this point in time, my number one consolation for the fact that I will have another year or so before having my oh-so-wanted second child is the fact that I won't have to change two sets of diapers. And that's not even a definite because this kid has NO interest in potty training. Like, at all.

I'm a believer in following her lead, not pressuring her, and trusting her to not remain in diapers forever. But, I figured giving her a few nudges, introducing her to the idea, and then stepping back when she resisted would be my strategy. So, I asked her if she would like to own some underwear, and she seemed excited. She picked out some Minnie underwear, we came home, and I put them on her. She loved them. They were soft! And "niiiiice!" I kept reminding her she would need to sit on the potty (which we'd owned for a while,) that these were not to be peed in. She brushed me off with a curt "Yeah." And then she peed in the first pair. And the second. When she even further defiled the third pair, we called it quits. This was clearly a stupid plan.

I resigned myself to the fact that she wasn't ready. Perhaps she wasn't even able to tell me she needed to go before it was happening. So, I backed off. I mean, she's only just turned two. What's my rush? She'll let me know when she's ready.

And yet, I AM in a rush. I really couldn't even tell you why. Diapers have never been a big deal to me. Changing them is simply what you do as a parent. It can be a little annoying at times, but it was never high on my list of grievances, until recently. But, after two years of mostly uneventful changing sessions, things have gotten contentious between Charlotte and her Official Diaper Changers. She doesn't want her diaper changed right now, thank you very much. She is too busy playing. "Well, okay. We'll change you in a few minutes." Nope. Still not interested. Oh, good. Now she's screaming. I just took a kick to the rib...you get the idea.

She's gotten better about the whole thing, but it's mentally exhausting to have to use so much psychology to get her to lie down willingly so that I can have the great honor of wiping her butt. We have to warn her, prepare her, give her little tasks along the way to make her feel like she's helping. It's quite taxing.

So, yesterday, when she announced she'd like to go potty while we were running errands, I took the bait. And, I took it with gusto. I whisked her to Target where I explained the concept of Pull-Ups to her. I know many experts say to skip these and go straight to underwear, but she's clearly not there yet, and I wanted to ride the momentum I thought we were gaining. So, as I'm explaining how she gets to pull them up and down herself "Just like underwear!" she spots the Toy Story pack and says "How 'bout Woody and Buzz?" Sure! Sure thing! Let's get them! Now let's go pick out a potty!

Charlotte's pediatrician recommended the seats that rest on top of a toilet seat. She said they are softer than most potties and that many kids like to feel that they are using a grown up potty. So, we went down another aisle where Charlotte agonized for a few minutes over her choices before finally settling on a Sesame Street cushion.

The whole ride home I was trying to pump up the excitement. Lots of "You're gonna use the potty! Hooray! And you'll get jellybeans! (Yes, jellybeans. I don't want to hear it.) And you're gonna wear Woody and Buzz Pull-Ups! Yeah! Best day ever!"

We get home, and I immediately begin setting everything up, still chattering with excitement over the momentous occasion that was about to take place. When, all of a sudden, I stop talking long enough to hear some very obvious grunting. I leaped into action. "Charlotte, are you pooping?" No answer. "Why don't you poop on the potty so you can get jellybeans?" "Okay!" Except we were too late. And for the rest of the day whenever she would agree to sit on the potty, she'd say "Pee, pee. Jellybeans, now!" I explained that she had to pee "for real" to get jellybeans. "Pee for real! Jellybeans!" "Um, no." She pressed on: "Pooping, pooping. Jellybeans!" This wasn't working.

When it was time to take her soaked Pull-Up off and replace it with a new one she requested "No Pull-Up. Just diaper."

Yeah, we're done. Son of a bitch.