It’s been a few weeks since I’ve posted anything, but it hasn’t been for lack of material!
The most substantial milestone in my life since I last wrote has been potting training Colt (and finding the perfect pair of mustard skinnies at TJ Maxx, but that’s for another blog.)
I knew it was time to look into potty training when Colt was waddling around like he’d just gotten off a horse – disgusted with himself.
I pictured Stewie from Family Guy saying, “Mummy please remove this soiled Pamper from my toddling loins.”
So I did what any intelligent Gen-X parent would do. I Googled “How to Potty Train a 2-Year-Old.”
I came across a blog written by a mother of four. She was obviously insane, but probably knew something about potty training, I thought.
(Kind of like when my best friend convinced me to read 19-Kids and Counting by The Duggars. While I fundamentally disagree with having a herd of children, Michelle’s got some good parenting tricks up her long sleeves.)
How to Potty Train Your Child in One Day – sounded like the article for me.
The basic premise was to immerse your child in potty-related activities for one solid day. No TV, no playground – just mommy, some potty books, a kitchen timer, and A LOT of salty snacks.
Fourteen cups of water later, and Colt was peeing every 15 minutes like clockwork. Not only that, he was excited about it!
Every time he went, it was a party at our house. Clapping, dancing, gummy worms all around!
Hot guys and free beer used to excite me. But that excitement was nothing compared to the exaltation I experienced when my kid peed in the potty for the first time.
My arsenal also included the My Carry Potty. A portable, vacuum-sealed toilet so small that I could not fit even one cheek on it.
When my mom made me watch the in-store product video featuring a perky little British girl strolling along proclaiming, “With My Carry Potty I Can Go Anywhere!” I laughed out loud.
But no kidding, Colt brought that commode everywhere with him and actually used it.
We felt so free. To be able to leave the house with food, water and toilet. The little British girl was right…we could go anywhere.
On our family road trip up to Atlanta for Thanksgiving, Colt had to go potty for the umpteenth thousandth time, and instead of asking my dad to pull over AGAIN, I plopped Colt onto the My Carry Potty right there in the back of the van.
I was excited to show my parents how easy it was to use this portable-wonder-pot.
Colt smiled at me and had a blowout.
“I feel betta now,” he said nodding. I’m sure he did.
Thank God for vaccuum suction.