I was woken up this morning with a tampon being waved in my face, unwrapped and thankfully, unused. I guess my son took a detour to the bathroom before coming to wake me up and demand “chocktick mook.” Can you decipher that? It’s chocolate milk. Yes, I’ve become one of those moms who gives their kid chocolate milk (Shut up! It’s Ovaltine. It has vitamins) instead of white milk because that’s all their preshus darling will drink. Seriously though, I just got tired of finding half drunk milk sippies all over the house and decided that a little chocolate milk never hurt anyone and that’s how we roll now. And I NEVER find half drunk milk sippies anymore. Am brilliant.
I’m also using Skittles to bribe my son to use the potty. I’m sure many of you are thinking that if I were more devoted and less lazy, I wouldn’t have to resort to sugary sugar-coated sugar nuggets and perhaps there’s some truth to that but honestly, I’ve been through potty training before and bribery often works just as well as following your child around all day asking them if they have to go. But alas, my confidence in the superiority of bribery is flagging lately because that method is not working quite as I’d intended.
See, he has been taking himself to the potty for months now (he’ll be three in June) which is great, right? There’s just one small glitch. He’ll only use the potty if he already has no pants on (not an unusual occurrence) The fact is, he just won’t take his pants down to go potty, opting instead to take the path of least resistance and go in his pull-up. I assume this is primarily attributable to laziness. He is, after all, my son. And honestly, who hasn’t wished at least once to be able to just pee into a nice absorbent diaper for the sake of convenience?
What? Is that weird?
So anyone who has an opinion, which is everyone, says I should just put him in underwear and pants and not use pull-ups anymore since he clearly knows when he has to go and is capable of taking himself to the bathroom without any assistance from me. And I’m all WHAT? Are you crazy? Do you realize how many pair of pants and underwear we’ve gone through already with that approach? And his sneakers? Peed upon right along with the sofas and the carpets. Were it not for Stanley Steemer, my house would smell like a freaking nursing home and if you’ve ever been to one, you KNOW what I’m talking about.
It seems we’ve reached an impasse. I can just let him go everywhere without pants on, which is tempting, or I can keep him in pull-ups until he’s like ten which is even more tempting except that those suckers are pricey and I’d rather spend that money on myself something more practical than character-festooned disposable underwear to pee and poop in, which, when put like that, actually sound downright absurd.
I’ve got to get him out of those things. Le sigh.