So, here we are. We knew this day would come, eventually. She’s 2 now, after all. Apparently she can’t stay in diapers forever (by the way, I’d like to be shown where, in the handbook we all get before we leave the hospital, that it says that, because I’m calling bullshit).

We are Potty Training. Capitalized.

I don’t mind diapers, I really don’t. Never have. Is it my FAVORITE part of this gig? Well, no, I can’t say that wiping someone elses ass and getting feces under my fingernails would qualify as a joyful part of motherhood, but it’s never been the bane that it is for some. I don’t like buying diapers, but meh, we never bought a can of formula, so I feel like we evened out there. Dylan is getting a little long for the changing table, but even at this age, where I can barely get her to sit still long enough to put food in her mouth, she’s still really good when it comes to having her diaper changed. She’s gotten more vocal about wanting me to change her when she’s peed or pooped, and when I go to the bathroom, she always comes in and sits on her toilet. She knows what it’s for, she knows what her little toilet is for, she gets it, IN THEORY. So, I thought, hey! Why not start potty training? While it’s warm and she can run around naked and not worry about freezing her bits! Easy peasy, we’ll be done in a week!

Related: I am nothing if not completely oblivious to how hard each step of this having a kid thing is going to be. We had it relatively easy in the beginning, so I automatically (read: stupidly) assume that it’s going to be easy ALL THE TIME. I’m smarter than I seem, I swear.

So, we started yesterday. And 2 hours in, I was done. DONE. Like, ready to chuck that stupid pink toilet out the fucking window and duct tape a diaper to her tush. Have I mentioned that I am not the most patient person in the world? Ok, now go read the first sentence of any book on potty training, and come back and tell me what it says you must have in order to be successful. Go ahead, I’ll wait. … You back? What’d it say? Ah, yes, the magic P word. I hate that word.

See, the thing is, I have patience for most things, like Dylan wanting to do things herself and it taking 45 minutes when I could do it in 2. Or reading the same book 24 times in a row because she knows most of the words and tells me she can read. Or watching Toy Story 3 sixteen times a day because there is absolutely nothing in the world cuter than an Asian girl running around saying, “Yeehaw!”. That kind of stuff? No problem. My problem lies in trying to teach something or get someone to understand something that they should just…get. Like peeing and shitting on the toilet. I mean, it’s just something they should get, you know? And YES, I realize she is 2 and learning this for the first time and expecting her to understand something completely new to her is just stupid and insane. But the thing is, SHE DOES GET IT. She asked me to sit on the toilet, told me she had to pee, then sat there. For 20 minutes. Just sitting. Got up, walked around, sat down again. And just sat. Again. This went on, FOR FOUR HOURS. She did not pee, FOR FOUR HOURS. Not even after I put a diaper back on her. She held it? Had performance anxiety? Wanted to fuck with me? Who knows. I even left the diaper off when she was walking around or watching tv or whatever, because I was getting concerned that she wasn’t peeing, and I just wanted to make sure she still could. I don’t care about pee on the floor (hardwoods FTW), and she has a pretty regular poop schedule, so I knew we were in the clear there. No pee. Not until she was in a diaper and asleep for her nap did she finally unclench and let it flow. 4 hours. For a toddler with little to know knowledge of Kegel’s, that it pretty impressive.

After that, I started doubting whether or not she was really ready. And I still don’t know if she is, to be honest. I mean, have you ever gotten a straight answer from a toddler? So after gathering some advice from fellow mamas, and resigning myself to the fact that, as smart as my kid is, she may need a little more “training” when it comes to potty training, I decided to keep going, but at a much slower pace. Keep her in undies when we were at home, expect some accidents, and put her on the potty whenever I could. She’ll get it. I know that. She walks and talks, right? She’ll learn how to go to the bathroom too, of this I am certain. At her pace, as it should be.

And then, just when I thought I was in for a battle, she pees. In the potty. After our shower tonight, she asked to sit on the toilet, and then she…peed. I think it surprised her more than it surprised me, because she leaned back to get a good look at what the hell was happening down below, and shot a stream of pee across the bathroom, all over the floor mats. BUT. She peed! All by herself, with no prompting from me! We made a ridiculous spectacle of it all, and I may have danced around the house with the pee in the bowl, singing a song about how awesome she was. And oh my god, she was SO proud of herself. So, so proud. She talked about it for the rest of the night, and kept running up to me to remind me that “I peed in my potty mama!”. And before bed, when we were snuggling in her chair, she whispered, “I such a big girl mama, I go pee pee in my potty tomorrow too.” And my heart nearly exploded with love and pride. I think she gets it now, and seeing how excited we were, just made her even more determined to go again.

So, we are stocked up for Potty Training 2012. We’ve got a toilet, princess undies, treats for good days, and lots and lots of disinfecting wipes. I expect to be elbow deep in this shit (heh) for a while, or for however long it takes. And even if it takes one week or one month or one year to be successfully potty trained, I’m okay with that. Seeing her face when she saw my face and how proud and excited I was? Oh man. That was a good feeling. I can wait forever to feel that again.

I hope I WON’T be waiting forever, but I can.

Just please don’t shit on the couch.