Hey Potty People! Yup. That. Just. Happened.
You know what else happened, my man Liam rocked the potty!
The tally for the three day weekend goes like this:
• 2 poop accidents (I am not counting the one where he was still wearing a diaper from the night before, don't judge me!)
• 1 pee accident (No, I am not counting the time where he had a couple of droplets in his underwear because that happens to all of us sometimes, right?)
• 2 completely DRY days
• 1 MAGICAL poop in the potty that earned him the coveted T-Rex that has been on the bathroom shelf since July!
Sure, I was near tears on day 2 after he launched into an anxiety attack which featured shaking and crying because he was so terrified to poop on the toilet. And fine, you're right, I totally cried on the morning of day 3 when I thought it was completely hopeless….
Then the clouds parted on that final night—Liam got a wild look in his eyes and ran for the bathroom. I was holding Connor at the time and couldn't follow him, so I started yelling (like the lunatic I really am and try to hide from most people) to Jesse who was in the other room, "POOP POOP POOP! GO GO GO!" My poor husband took off like a rocket, barreling into the bathroom to meet the demands of a kid who suddenly turned into a mini-dictator. A kid who needed to be surrounded by millions of toys, all of which his father graciously grabbed for him, one-by-one. Then, Liam sat right down on the potty and we left him alone in the bathroom.
I put Connor in his crib with a bunch of toys to keep him busy while I waited, pacing in circles. I had just started to pray that I wouldn't discover a horrific scene in the bathroom when we heard the quietest voice say, "I did it."
We rushed the bathroom like rapid Patriots fans demanding Tom Brady tell us what the heck happened (OK, that was a bit of a reach, I know, but seriously, the Ravens are going to the Superbowl? Come on!) Anyway… we rushed the bathroom as Liam's voice got louder and screechy-er, "I DID IT! I DID IT!! I DID IT!!!!" Then, with Connor watching in fear or amazement, we launched into a three-person dance party that lasted literally 35 minutes—all of us hooting and hollering like we won the lottery, because, you guys, we pretty much did.
We all really needed this ONE VICTORY to make the point: you can do this, it is going to be OK, you are going to successful and you're not going to college in diapers!
Now the hard part: he had to wear a Pull-Up to go to daycare today because it's the rule there… Sadly one poop doesn't make a potty-trained toddler. Fingers crossed when I pick him up today he had another successful day….