We Don’t Negotiate with Potty Trainers (Yeah, Right.)

Add this to the list of things I never thought I would say to my husband: “You’ve got to see these tinkles!”

I remember watching Vince Vaughn talk about potty training his daughter on Ellen. He said something about everything going out of the window in order to potty train: his daughter, who had only been allowed to have green smoothies for breakfast, was now being bribed with bags and bags of M&Ms to use the toilet.

I have read all the articles out there on different ways to potty train your child. From studying their eyes and stance to potty parties (decorating your bathroom like a party to celebrate this milestone), but none of them seemed right for Charlotte. We’re currently experimenting with a princess sticker chart.

I’d love to say that we are using a sticker chart because I don’t want to use food as a reward…but that’s not it. I didn’t have any candy in the house when Charlotte first said she wanted to use her potty, so we have a sticker chart.

Last night, she told me that she needed to use the potty, but when she sat down, “it wasn’t working.” I knew she needed to go, so I tried to bribe her with leftover Valentine’s Day candy.

Mom: “If you go, you can have TWO stickers and a chocolate heart!”
Child: “It’s still not working!”
Mom: “That’s okay then, we can try later.”
Child: “Where’s my chocolate?”

A few things ran through my mind in this split second: (1) do I explain cause and effect to my almost three-year-old? or (2)….well, I didn’t have time to get there because she started stomping around like a T-Rex, demanding her chocolate.

My husband somehow summoned the strength to turn his blood shot eyes away from the House of Cards bender he was on all weekend to say, “We don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“Potty Trainers.” I corrected. By this time the T-Rex was in full-blown meltdown mode, after fighting through her nap time earlier. I knew I couldn’t give her the chocolate. She would win. So what did I do?

I broke. (Feel free to judge.) I gave her the chocolate and watched her rip the foil off like a gremlin that was fed after midnight. Her face covered in chocolate, laughing hysterically as she came closer and said, “Mommy. You smell that?” and pointed at her diaper.

It could have been worse. It could have been like Friday night: she made it through the entire day dry (!!!!) and was ready for her bath. I jumped in the shower while Craig gave Charlotte her bath and I almost had a heart attack when he started yelling in panic from the bathtub area.

Dad: “AUGH! She pooped! In the tub!”
Mom: “Take her out!”
Child: “Help! Mommy!”

So, DD/MD families, please, please God, help me. I’m a week into 21 Day Fix and can’t drink. ;)  What worked for your kiddos?

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