P is for Pee and Poo

That's right, I went there.  As most of you who are reading this know, pee and poo belongs in the toilet, where it can be easily flushed away and is unlikely to cause a painful rash or messy cleanup.  You'd think that someone who has spent their entire lives soiling themselves would welcome the new and improved method.  And you'd be wrong.  People are very resistant to change. They enjoy the comfort of being wrapped in cushy plastic.  They enjoy having the excrement lovingly wiped from their nether regions.  They even enjoy seeing their mother's frustration.

By "they" I'm referring to my daughter, Jadzia.  Yes, she is SO OLD.  I've told her.  Kindergarten is coming.  Deadline: September. She's still in a pull-up full time.

We've gone through several toilet training attempts.  I've bribed her with various forms of candy, with nail polish, with praise.  Our most successful attempt occurred a few months ago, when I let her go half naked all the time.  While our basement began to smell like urine, most of her pees and poos ended up in the potty.  She even climbed onto the big toilet by herself.

She then graduated to underwear.  I don't care how many diapers you've changed, there's nothing more disgusting than poopy panties.  You can't tear them at the sides like diapers so they must be slowly peeled from the body, smearing excrement on their legs and your hands.  If you ask my daughter, she'd tell you that poo belongs in the potty, but in practice she doesn't follow her own rules.

I have since given up all attempts at toilet training.  It causes too much frustration, and Jadzia enjoys the power struggle too much.  She'll go on the toilet occasionally, particularly when we're out.  Mostly number one.  If she has to poo, she hides in her bedroom.

My daughter is smart, which is part of the problem.  She's too smart to be tricked out of diapers.

William's William Shirt

My good friend Carol made William this custom onesie and sent it to us all the way from Scotland. This morning I finally got the nerve to risk ruining it by actually putting it on him. He promptly spit up on it and pooed in it. Sigh. At least I got this picture. Hopefully that new stain remover we got is as good as the commercials say it is. If not, I may never get a good picture of the back of the shirt, which has his date and time of birth on it. Anyway, the blanket in the picture is also from Carol and has so far remained poo-free.

Other things: Adam has been working late all week. Yesterday, despite it being Saturday, he worked until 5 am! (6 am if you count daylight savings time). He did take a two-hour break to take me out to dinner at Red Lobster (my wonderful Dad watched William for us). Still, I've been missing my Adam. I'm going to go kiss him now.