Potty training. The joys.
Perhaps we are a bit ahead of the curve here, seeing as the sprout is only 18 months old. But with the whole EC thing, it just seemed like he should be potty trained. And I hate (repeat HATE) changing diapers.
About a month ago we did something I swore I would never do. We bought a child's toilet seat for our toilet. We have a potty and it's a no go. The sprout's feet touch the floor and up he gets and starts running around the bathroom. And he's getting too heavy to hold over the toilet. So I went out and bought an infant potty seat.
First of all, if you want a potty that isn't covered in some disney character smiling back at your child's ass with the words, "Way to go!!" printed on it you are shit out of luck. Well, almost. But you really have to look for the plain boring ones that scream, "I'm a cheap bastard and it's obviously going to take me 18 times as long to potty train my child because he isn't trying to pee on Dora."
But I did find one. Tucked away behind the bright pink barbies and toronto maple leaf blue thomases. It was only a little dusty, blue with a white seat. A white squishy, cushy seat. The dude calls it the posh toilet. The sprout now pats his toilet and says, "posh" while he has a wee.
In an attempt to use positive reinforcement we clap and cheer when the sprout does his business. Sometimes we give high fives. Sometimes we jump up and down and do little twirls... errr... okay I only did that once. And then I fell in the bathtub. We stick with clapping now.
Only the sprout has decided that he's going to call the shots while he's on his thrown.
me: little sprout do you need to go pee pee?
sprout: taps diaper dry!
me: okay, let's go to the bathroom!
sprout: taps diaper dry! dry!
me: taking off diaper You are dry! Let's go go go! run into bathroom and deposit sprout on posh toilet
sprout: bum! (means sit on your bum on the edge of the cold metal bathtub, mummy)
sprout: pats toilet seat posh!
me: do you need to go pee pee?
sprout: stares off into space
me: Yeah!!!!!! initiates clapping
(much clapping and cheering ensues)
me: ummm... sure... kneels down and gives the sprout a hug
sprout: bum! (go freeze your buns some more on the cold metal bathtub)
sprout: daddy! bum! points next to me on the bathtub
me: daddy travaille (my pathetic attempt at teaching him french)
me: fini? all done? signs "all done"
sprout: signs "all done"
sprout: wipe! points behind him to the pile of cloth wipes on the back of the toilet
me: are you sure you're all done?
sprout: WIPE! (damn it woman, listen when I tell you what to do)
me: okay okay
Next thing I know the sprout is going to be expecting all his stuffed animals to have a little parade every time he squeezes out a dribble.