note: this is, indeed, a dirty post. consider yourself warned.
Oh, Jude. Somehow, someway, this boy has burrowed so deeply into my heart, I can’t seem to remove myself to a safe distance. You know, the distance you need to make wise parental decisions like: “no, you may not throw your sippy cup against the wall to see how far the splatter marks go” or “yes, you do need to eat something besides ramen and L@y’s potato chips”. And I’m telling you, in so doing, I’ve created a monster. Of course, he’s the most adorable monster on the planet. Something about him, maybe how his eyes squint when he smiles, or the fact that he’s overcome so many obstacles in his short life, who knows, but I just can’t seem to stop myself from losing my parental head when it comes to him and just. say. no.
So I have found myself in a quandry of late. The yuckiest kind of quandry, one that involves the task of changing the diaper of an over-three year old. There’s something magical that happens on a child’s third birthday. They officially become too- old- to- poop- in- a- diaper. At least in my book. I can handle just about any dirty diaper situation, but when it involves a child over three, well, all bets are off. All my kids had either self-trained by three. Or shortly after their third birthday, we went cold turkey. And it worked. Until now.
So here I am, asking, begging for some tips. Pointers. I just can’t take the sad face, the tears. He’s completely capable of peeing on the pot, it’s the other business he’s yet to do outside of a diaper. He’s not scared of the pot, in fact, he can hoist himself up there, no sweat. And we have sat (and sat and sat) forever, with nothin’ to show for it. And I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit squeamish about this part of motherhood, the dirty, stinky part. So give me what you got… those secrets tucked away in your mommy- back- pocket. Bribes, I’ve tried ’em, but I’m not averse to trying anything you might recommend. Or tricks, like the peeing on the Cheerio game, except that one doesn’t work in this case. I would be so grateful for anything that might help me get one out of diapers before Miss Vivi comes home.