Ah, shite.

Just a second, mom. I'm checking twitter.

I swore to myself that I wouldn’t write about this topic. I know when I read the blogs of other parents who are going through this dreaded task, I kind of roll my eyes. I mean, who really wants to read about your child learning to use the toilet? I don’t want to hear about anyone using a toilet much less someone who is going to miss 99% of the time.

Yet, here I am, about to write about POTTY TRAINING. Ugh, god, even the word is awful. Why is it you can train a cat to go in a litter box in a day but a kid could take YEARS to learn how to properly control its bladder? I wonder the same thing about walking and holding our heads up. Giraffes are born standing up and walk fine in days. They can easily hold up that big neck, yet humans can take months to master that skill. WTF, nature? Superior species,indeed.

James just… isn’t getting it. We entered into the whole thing lightly, only having him sit on his little throne in the morning and night before putting him into (the world’s cutest) underpants full time. Two weeks ago we jumped in at the encouragement of his crèche, and, while the first few days were really encouraging, it has sort of gone downhill from there.

A text from Bub last night: “They were singing his praises about all the wees in the potty while he stood beside me with a shit in his pants.”

Oh friends, when did it become acceptable to text and blog about shit? Oooooh, never. Right.

We know it’s only been two weeks but it’s so frustrating when you say to someone over and over again, “We do our business in the potty.” or “You should only do that in the potty!” or “JUST DO IT IN THE POTTY!” and they just don’t listen. He just does not care if there is a shit in his pants. Life goes on for him. Sure, people don’t want to be his friend anymore, but who cares! Another five minutes on the slide!

They tell me that he’ll get it. They tell me that it will just one day click and all of our potty problems will go away. They tell me he will have this down no problem by the time we make a seven hour, international flight to the US in October, so he won't pee on my mother’s carpet.

I think they are all damn liars.

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Liz in Dublin