Potty Mouth

So, like any good Mom, when I have a question about parenting I call the person I spent 25 years making fun of for knowing "nothing": My Mom. I'm obviously amazing and I'm sure she deserves 49% of the credit (we'll give Big Kev 49% too, I'll take the remaining 2).

With every question I ask, it becomes glaringly obvious we do things differently. I read countless books and consult 100's of websites looking for all of the newest, hottest information on how to overcome this current struggle in parental decisions and when I call my Mom? She is likely inwardly laughing at me. Not with me, at me. I guess people have been potty training kids for 1,000 of years without the internet.

My Mom is significantly more patient than I am (which actually doesn't give me all that much hope:). She is also a much, much harder worker than I am. I'm not sure if it was lack of cable and internet, but when she was a Stay-at-home-Mom, she baked and cleaned and stuff. She walked us all over the place and totally played games with us. I mostly screw around (ahem, I mean research) online and watch tv. Occasionally I mix it up with a quick camp song, but for the most part, Clare is kinda on her own. Plus, I'm so busy reading about parenting, who has time to parent? Or empty a dishwasher.

So, when my Mom gives parenting advice, it typically is not the answer I want. It involves things like "Keep trying, she'll figure it out" or "Just be patient" (have me met?). She reminds me it took a few months to potty train me (days for Heather, she was much faster at this game). And all I can think is that there is this book, The 3 Day Potty Training Method. It sounds way more up my alley than this "be patient" and keep trying crap. I've since mentioned that maybe when my parents are out next week my Mom could just potty train her for me. It sounds like a good game plan, she's clearly potty trained 2 kids already, so it should be good.

In my head, I had assumed that one day, I would wake up, walk into the nursery and Clare would say:

Hey Lady! What's up? Maybe every morning when you get up with me you can move your ass a little faster instead of listening to me on that monitor for 30 minutes? Thoughts? Also, I've been thinking about this diaper situation. I'm almost 21 months old. I could probably do this potty training thing you've been talking about. Sounds reasonable. I mean, you've been doing all the work (well, the Big Guy helps out too) for the last 21 months. It's probably time I take over. I'm sure I'll be more attentive than you are when your "researching" and such. So, let's give it a go!

Sadly, this has not happened.

After vast amounts of online help (read 20 minutes of looking this crap up yesterday, TMZ is way too time consuming) I've learned that you have to wait and assess their "readiness cues". So, Clare has recently demonstrated several (get this: the criteria is 2 of 10, which makes no e'ffing sense to me. How is a 20% passing?). Chris and I had previously bought the potty insert (cause the whole "potty chair" seems really gross). I'm a fan of the self cleaning indoor plumbing situation, so we give it a go a few weeks ago with sitting her on it.

She flipped the heck out. Wanted no part of it, cried to get off. So, I order this free DVD from Huggies (ah, training pants ad) and pop in the TV, assuming the TV has taught her most of her necessary life skills up until now, so this should work out. She was interested for about 3 seconds until she heard the word potty. Just heard it. Tears. Not having it.

A few more days go by and the light goes off above my head: She must not like sitting up so high, bare-assed. I know I don't like to be 2/3 of my height in the air with my pants around my ankles, so I can see the fear. Off to the wonderful world of Walmart to buy a singing potty (why not get one that sings?).

Yesterday, I pull it out of the box in the living room and show it to Clare. I really sell it to her (I hate sales). Look how much fun it is? Look, it sings! Look at the little girl in the picture smiling like she sees Elmo while sitting on the Potty. I really give it my all. Clapping, singing, dancing. The whole schabang. Clare thinks it's a game and sits on the potty. Good stuff.

Fast forward to last night. I decided to wait until Chris came home so he wouldn't miss her first tinkle on the potty (which I later ran by him and he mentioned he was all set. Apparently, he's not a girl, so missing aforementioned experience would have not made him want to kill himself). We follow the Puppy Potty Training rule: Give her a huge drink, wait 10 minutes and than take her potty. So, I start selling it: Wanna go sit on the potty Clare? Won't that be fun? We'll let you out of baby jail into the magic room with the flusher and you can pee on the potty and wash your hands? How much FUN is that?

Clare was immediately highly suspicious. She wouldn't even leave the living room for the freedom of the open gate. She started crying. So, Chris brings her in (I'm waiting trying to sing and sell from the bathroom). She starts panicking. I quick whip off her diaper and pull her pants down to sit her down. Well, big mistake. That's when she lets loose with the loudest, most hysterical crying. EVER. Chris thinks it's because we make her sit when she's in time out so he goes to get a reward (ice cream) to feed to her for sitting on the potty. It worked with Serena. So, in the mean time Clare stands up and starts crying harder. Chris brings back the ice cream and tries to get her to sit and gives her a taste. She's crying so hard she spits the ice cream out. And....
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Wait for it.
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Pees on the floor.

Like all over the floor. Just pees and cries and steps in pee and cries some more.

I tried to hug her (thus spreading the pee around) and used my potty mouth to express the urgency to Chris to bring in the Lysol.


It was as fantastic as we had hoped this parenting moment would be.

I'm fairly certain Clare will master a potty mouth before she masters potty training.

Hopefully, my Mom can take care of that next week.