So now Grady's trucking around in his sister's old pink pull-ups and wondering why we incessantly ask if he has to go poopy. We started off with a grand-slam. Day 1, 1st Toilet Sitting -- Grady pooped! I acted excited and even gave him a few M&M's ("A Candy For A Dandy"), but I'd been burned too many times by Dylan when she was potty-training to really celebrate. Sure enough, Day 1, 2nd Toilet Sitting -- Grady peed on the floor before I could get him seated, splashed around his piss puddle with his hands, sat on the toilet and did nothing, then, when I took him off, peed more on his clothes. Sigh.
|Potty-Training is Exhausting!|
I made the mistake today of catching Grady mid-poo, taking off his pull-up, and putting him on the toilet. No, no, no. Bad idea. His legs, butt, the toilet seat, and a 3' radius around the toilet were smeared in his doody. All I could yell was, "Help!" as Regina ran in with a pack of wipes and a hazmat suit.
There's no turning back and we look forward to the day of skid-marked chonies rather than poop-filled diapers. With a little patience, and a whole lot of 409, we'll make it through this alive.