Okay, everybody, time for some math.
Ike was JUST born. Right? Maybe five, six months ago, tops. Maybe not even that long. Point is, I brought him home from the hospital YESTERDAY and now my calendar is telling that his second birthday is less than four weeks away. Whuuuut.
THINGS BABY IKE WON'T DO ANYMORE:
1. Sit in a high chair
2. Take a nap, ever
3. Stay inside with me while the big kids are outside playing
4. Eat ice cream (brain freeze related reasons, long story)
5. Tolerate my attempts to thwart potty training
(Humblebrag, ahoy! Right? Am worst.)
He started asking to use the potty about a month ago. I have been KIND OF going along with it, albeit super inconsistently and grudgingly, because GUUHHHHH.
That horrid in-between stage — where they aren't really ready to leave the house sans diaper but you don't want to backtrack, so either you never leave the house for a week or two, or you spend the entire outing terrified, while saying "DO YOU HAVE TO GO POTTY DO YOU HAVE TO GO POTTY" every 30 seconds like a deranged parrot and then the kid STILL pees all over the floor at Target because he is a lying liar, he SO TOTALLY HAD TO GO POTTY — yeah, that stage. I am not ready to deal with that stage again.
I've potty trained two children already and I know the secret that nobody wants to tell you: It's completely overrated.
A potty-trained toddler is not a genius nor proof that you are amazeballs at parenting. A potty-trained toddler is a liability and a goddamned menace. A ticking pee bomb just waiting to have an accident or to demand access a potty at the precise moment where you have absolutely no access to a potty. (This moment usually happens about five minutes after you DID have access to a potty and offered it repeatedly, only to be turned down because no, I no hafta to go potty.)
(LIAR! Stop with all of your lies!)
So right now the potty remains an occasional nighttime novelty act. I almost feel guilty about my lack of follow-through, since I'm sure we could seal the deal pretty quickly so if I just...cared more? Stuck with it? Did much of anything about it?
Because of the older boys (and I dunno, OUR LIVES), I simply can't keep Ike and I holed up at home for very long. Even the 24-hour "Toilet Training in Less Than a Day" approach feels like a massive scheduling commitment (and commitment is not something I excel at right now; see: Overrated, Completely). Every day, there's somewhere to be or go. So every day, I put him in a diaper because we haven't practiced enough to take it to the next level. Maybe tomorrow we can practice some more. Or the next day. But by then Ike's been wearing diapers for a few straight days and although he still WANTS to use the potty he's backtracked on what is actually supposed to HAPPEN on the potty. So we start all over again, half-assing it all the way.
And then, of course, there's the part where he's my baby. My last little baby who is not even two years old yet — four weeks! I still have four weeks! — but who is hellbent on growing up as fast as he possibly can and leaving everything baby-related behind. For the first time in almost eight years, my house won't have a high chair or a crib or baby gates. No changing table or diapers. That's a Matrix-style "Whoa" moment, right there.
(Yes, it will completely serve me right if this window of opportunity slams closed in my face and we're stuck with diapers for another three years, or something.)
(But at least nobody will pee on my couch in the meantime.)