Classic Mom Post

So, a few blogs ago, I posted that my boys had both accomplished something big. It's true, and now I'll share Grammy's big deal.

Graham is potty trained. Can you believe it? I know! I never expected it so early. Not that 2 years 5 months is remarkably young and shows early genius signs or anything, but if you know Graham, you'd understand why I was hoping to get the job done before he left for collage. In all seriousness, I was hoping to begin the big-boy journey this summer, but I was nervous for even then. Potty training was so easy with Parker, but still I had these feelings that Graham, with his APGAR 2 score and all, would give me a fit-of-a-time when it came to potty training. NOT AT ALL. I never even had to bust out the timer method that worked so well with Park. Here's how it all went down...the toilet. :)

One afternoon after Graham got up from a nap, he was crying because he was holding his pee. He has been doing this for months. He would eventually stop fussing when he alleviated himself in his diaper. I had set him on the little potty a few times to see if he'd pee in there, but only a few times was he successful because he didn't really have much control over when he went. I don't know why he started holding it, but it was only during nap time. The rest of the day, he was happy to just go in his diaper. And I was just fine with that. After I changed him this particular day, Graham was just running around in a pull up. We used them some times because we had a lot left over from when Parker was being trained at night. They are easier to pull on and off of a wild animal child.

I decided to chat on the phone with a friend when Parker came in and told me that Graham needed to pee. I was like, "Wha?" I told Parker to take him in the bathroom and have him go. I was sure it wouldn't work, but thought they'd leave me alone a minute so I could talk. A few minutes later, the brotherly pee team emerged from the bathroom with cheers. Parker informed me that he had gotten Graham to go pee. He was able to pull down Graham's pull-up and seat him on the frog throne all by himself. Such a good big brother. I checked it out, and sure enough, there was evidence in the little frog toilet. Yay! That was my first thought. My second? Hmmmm. Do I really want to do this? I gave them both a few chocolate chips for a job well-done, that is, Graham's peeing and Parker's coaching.

When Parker figured out he could get paid for his efforts, the game was on! Every few minutes, he marched his brother to the bathroom and demanded that he produce pee in the potty. I didn't even have to be present. Parker would pull down Graham's pull-ups or underwear and Graham would do his thing. It was amazing. They managed 6-8 successful trips to the bathroom that first day and I kind of felt pressured to actually potty train Graham for good. 

The next step was getting him to poo. For you weathered, veteran moms out there, you know this is the tricky part. He had a few nasty accidents. One in which he was actually trying to go in the potty. I won't go into detail, but I'll at least say, he went only a small amount in the frog. The rest was on the bathroom floor and strewn though the rest of the restroom and hallway in the form of brown little footprints. Um...yuck. I'm not the mom who says it's okay to mess yourself, either. A lot of parenting magazines tell you to not scold them at all. I don't believe in ripping them a new one for an accident, but it's not okay and I didn't want Graham to think it was. I told him he made me sad, acted somewhat disgusted (it's the truth, what?), and reassured him that I knew he could do it the right way. I wasn't cruel or mean. That seemed to work for him and on day 3, he went in the potty. The big potty. The potty where I could just flush the nasty away. It's like graduation day for toddler moms.

The rest is history. He figured out how to stand and go which makes going in public soooo nice because you can just stand them on the potties. He usually tells me when he needs to go or I make him when he starts "the dance". I still put pull-ups on him when we are out for an extended period of time in public, just for insurance, but he usually keeps them dry anyway. We've had a few accidents here or there, but he's made it, pretty successfully I might add, to big-boy-hood.

WOO-HOO!!!

I told him I wanted to take some pictures of him in his big boy undies to commemorate the occasion. I figured these pictures are much better than him sitting doing his business ;) I know it looks as though I've posed him, but I promise all I did was throw him on my bed. He wouldn't sit still so I let him flounder about and I just kept shooting. Occasionally I'd get him to look at me. Ladies, eat your hearts out.

GQ Baby all the way!