Potty talk
I've given up. I've resigned myself to the fact that Tristan will never in fact be potty trained. We will just have to contact Pampers and special order diapers in sizes 7 through 15, which should transition him into the adult-sized Depends. Hopefully, he will pair off with an understanding young woman who can take over his diaper changing from me when they get married, and they will live happily ever after. Because the potty training thing is not working out for us.
He's almost three and a half. I have been fastidiously not pushing him, not making a big deal about it. I've even blogged about my resolve not to make an issue out of this. And we've done such a good job of making a non-issue out of potty training that it never going to happen.
It's not that he doesn't get the concept. He's p'd in the potty on numerous occassions. (Note: I am using euphemisms not out of any sense of decorum, but simply because I don't want that kind of Google traffic.) He's done the other business on the potty a few times. He's even been in the bathtub and told me he has to p and held it while I dried him off a bit and set him on the throne, so he understands the bio-mechanics just fine.
Yes, he uses the big people toilet. The boy is over 40 lbs and somewhere around 44 inches tall. He's the size of a five year old. I think he outgrew the plastic potty a couple of years ago. We're just barely able to strap a size 6 Pampers on him, and I have no idea what we'll do if he grows anymore.
He's just not interested. I even (gasp!) resorted to bribes. For a while, Smarties were doing the trick for us, but lately he's gone a little blasé on the whole bribe thing.
Me (brightly): Hey Tristan! Wanna go p in the potty?
Tristan: No thanks.
Me (enthusiastically): Are you sure? You can have a Smartie if you p in the potty.
Tristan: No thanks.
Me (exhuberantly): And you can have THREE Smarties if you poop in the potty!
Tristan (considering): Smarties? Um, no thanks.
Me (deflating): You don't want any Smarties? What about jelly beans? Mmmm, jelly beans!
Tristan (distancing): No thanks.
Me (desperately): Okay, well what do you want? Chips? Popcorn? A pony? A Camaro? What will it take, boy? What do you want from me? OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST P IN THE POTTY WILL YOU!!!!
Tristan: No thanks.
And so it goes. I have resigned myself to the fact that he may never, in fact, be potty trained. Because I managed to housebreak the dog, I still hold out hope that I'll have some future success with his brother. But for now, I'll be off to write a note to Pampers, pleading for some supersized free samples.
And you can bet the cost of those diapers will be coming out of his college fund.
He's almost three and a half. I have been fastidiously not pushing him, not making a big deal about it. I've even blogged about my resolve not to make an issue out of this. And we've done such a good job of making a non-issue out of potty training that it never going to happen.
It's not that he doesn't get the concept. He's p'd in the potty on numerous occassions. (Note: I am using euphemisms not out of any sense of decorum, but simply because I don't want that kind of Google traffic.) He's done the other business on the potty a few times. He's even been in the bathtub and told me he has to p and held it while I dried him off a bit and set him on the throne, so he understands the bio-mechanics just fine.
Yes, he uses the big people toilet. The boy is over 40 lbs and somewhere around 44 inches tall. He's the size of a five year old. I think he outgrew the plastic potty a couple of years ago. We're just barely able to strap a size 6 Pampers on him, and I have no idea what we'll do if he grows anymore.
He's just not interested. I even (gasp!) resorted to bribes. For a while, Smarties were doing the trick for us, but lately he's gone a little blasé on the whole bribe thing.
Me (brightly): Hey Tristan! Wanna go p in the potty?
Tristan: No thanks.
Me (enthusiastically): Are you sure? You can have a Smartie if you p in the potty.
Tristan: No thanks.
Me (exhuberantly): And you can have THREE Smarties if you poop in the potty!
Tristan (considering): Smarties? Um, no thanks.
Me (deflating): You don't want any Smarties? What about jelly beans? Mmmm, jelly beans!
Tristan (distancing): No thanks.
Me (desperately): Okay, well what do you want? Chips? Popcorn? A pony? A Camaro? What will it take, boy? What do you want from me? OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST P IN THE POTTY WILL YOU!!!!
Tristan: No thanks.
And so it goes. I have resigned myself to the fact that he may never, in fact, be potty trained. Because I managed to housebreak the dog, I still hold out hope that I'll have some future success with his brother. But for now, I'll be off to write a note to Pampers, pleading for some supersized free samples.
And you can bet the cost of those diapers will be coming out of his college fund.
Said DaniGirl at 6:43 a.m. #
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