Potty Training. Where’s the wine?

Potty Training. It sucks. Sew bad.

Potty training is one giant anxiety attack. Your entire day revolves around peeing and pooping. Not like it didn’t already revolve around that, but now it’s a matter of your tiny human peeing and pooping on your area rug because they’re running around butt naked, or peeing and pooping in the potty. Which you still have to clean up. Insert anxiety attack.

I remember when Brody was a baby and actually saying out loud “I am totally going to start Potty Training when he’s like 18 months. I’m not changing diapers when he’s 2 1/2”.  Yeah, I was THAT Mom. If  a Mom said that to me today, I would probably laugh a little too hard and just walk away before I said something stupid. Obviously, I did not Potty Train Brody by 2 1/2, and am eating my words.

Our Potty Training journey has been really interesting so far. We’ve had a few accidents here and there, a few poops on the hardwood floor, and a few tears. Mostly shed by me.  I would consider Brody to be like 75% potty trained and I’m totally ok with that. We’re about 18 days in (not that I’m counting) and I’m feeling pretty confident that he will be 100% Potty Trained by his 4th Birthday… He turns three next month. We clearly strive for success in this household.

I’m just going to go ahead and say that I feel like there is way too much pressure on Potty Training your toddler. I mean, when I have to pee in the middle of the night, I have to really think about whether or not it’s worth it to get out of bed. How can I expect my not even 3 year-old to successfully get out of bed every. single.night. and go pee. I feel like that’s unrealistic. Maybe some will think I am the issue, letting my child use a pull-up every night until I think he’s REALLY ready. Thankfully, I don’t really give a shit. I carried this kid for 9 months, stayed up with him every night when he felt like partying at 3AM, and know him better than anyone. Aside from my Husband. I know he’s not really ready for that, and that is totally fine. I can assure you Brody will not be in Pull-Up’s his Freshman year of college. Right? God I hope not.

As frustrating as it is to see poop hit our Bamboo floors, I’m just gonna go with the flow. It is what it is. It’s starting to click, and I will just be there to catch his poop when he needs me to. My advice to all Mom’s feeling this struggle is to drink a glass of wine, and chill out. It will happen. Ignore your Grandmother who told you she Potty Trained her son when he was 11 months old. That never happened. Your little tornado will let you know when he/she is ready. Until then, enjoy that glass of Pinot and know that you are killin’ it at this whole Mom thing.

Happy Strolling!