The Diaper Chronicles, Part 1
Introducing our new “Side Effects May Include” series - a collection of parenting essays with a side of heart or a dose of real-life ridiculousness. The series kicks off with The Diaper Chronicles, Part 1—a potty-training saga of high hopes, M&Ms, and total chaos.
In the spring of 2020, I might have been one of the few people worldwide patting myself on the back. Yes, we were experiencing Covid lockdowns and isolations; yes, my husband was working straight out while I was trying to survive with two small children and googling “how to get mushed play-doh out of carpet"; yes, I missed my parents, in-laws, and society in general.
However, this was also a great time to potty train my newly turned 2-year-old. We had nowhere to be, and in the house, pants are optional, right?! And just like her big sister before her, she figured it out in the blink of an eye.
She was excited; she loves stickers and reward charts, and the potty (I believe it was a Doc McStuffins-themed potty, but I’ve since blocked everything 2020 from my mind, PTSD-style) was fun! Easy-peasy, lemon squeezy! Just one poop accident on the welcome mat, and other than that, we were home free! I’m the best parent ever!
Five years have passed since then, and those two little cuties are in school now. I still have diapers in the house, however, as their baby brother arrived in 2022. With unfounded and frankly unearned confidence that I’m a super parent potty training pro, I bravely attempted to potty train that 2.5-year-old third child a few weeks ago.
It. Didn’t. Go. Well.
First of all, I owe an apology to all of you boy moms, even if I’ve never met you. I had two lovely, spirited yet overall well-behaved, easy-to-please, eager-to-learn, adaptable girls as my first two kids. They are about 19 months apart, and while it was crazy during the baby stage (thanks to colic), they truly were a dream as toddlers and preschoolers.
I watched all my friends chasing after boys in diapers and thought… huh. I guess I’m just that good!
I kid, I kid. I never thought that. I’m extremely average. Kind of a type B- mom.
Anyway, boys. Wow. Now I know this is an individual kid thing, not necessarily a gender thing, but in general, toddler boys are a whole different ball game than toddler girls!
There’s running, jumping, hitting, and turning everything into a weapon; climbing dangerously high places; endless poop jokes; breaking every toy they own; and sitting down to color for exactly 2.5 seconds before either throwing the page on the floor or eating the crayon.
But then there’s also the potty training. And let me tell you, after my two easy girls, I was NOT prepared for a stubborn little boy.
The Day of Diaper Reckoning
It started innocently enough. It was a Saturday morning. We had a nice little day ahead of us. Softball, piano lessons, soccer practice… maybe Bed, Bath and Beyond… I don’t know. I don’t know if we’ll have enough time. (Shout out to my fellow older millennials.)
After cleaning up a messy poop, I decided that today was the day to start potty training. I was tired of diapers and ready for baby boy to use the potty! We had all the underwear and the potty seat; we read the books, and we’d practiced before bath time. He’s ready, I thought.
I enlisted the help of his two big sisters, and we created an amazing sticker chart, complete with columns, an X and Y axis, categories— you name it. Oh, and it was bedazzled.
We showed it off to baby #3 (henceforth known in this article as “the gremlin”) with excitement. Look, gremlin! A sticker chart! Each time you pee, you get a sticker, and after 5 stickers, you’ll earn an M&M!
Well, the gremlin was extremely unimpressed with the idea of a sticker chart. He heard the word "M&M," and we all had to endure a loud tantrum while he screamed for candy.
Fifteen minutes later I had worked up a sweat, the girls had escaped to their room, and I stared at the fridge, wondering if 8:30 AM was too early for a High Noon. The sticker chart had been stolen and eaten by the puppy, and the gremlin was wearing his underwear on his head.
A smarter woman would have called it quits and realized that he just wasn’t ready. I may be book smart, but no one’s ever accused me of being emotionally smart. I thought about those gross poop diapers I was tired of changing and stupidly forged ahead in my potty training quest. After all, I successfully potty-trained two kids in a day! How hard could this be?
The Start of My Demise
After much cajoling, bribery, and trickery, the gremlin reluctantly agreed to pee on the potty in exchange for 5 M&Ms per pee. He only agreed to put on the undies instead of his “diaPAH” for an entire fistful of M&Ms. For those keeping track, now I’m missing my helpers, I’m out a sticker chart and need to buy an industrial-size bag of M&Ms from Costco, as well as book a dental hygiene visit.
We packed up and headed out for our busy Saturday, using the potty before we left (at this point, I’ve been upsold to 8 M&Ms for any pee-on-demand situation). We made it through piano and softball with no issues, swinging home for a quick potty break (9 M&Ms).
At soccer, the gremlin ran off to play with some other field rats (aka little brothers) he had found while I sat down to enjoy a moment of adult conversation. This lasted about 45 seconds before he ran back yelling, “I pee!”
Upon further examination, I realized it was just a drop of pee in his undies, but he recognized that he had to go. I praised him for telling me, and we headed to the field house to try out the big potty. BIG MISTAKE. The gremlin was terrified of the toilets and horrified that I had even brought him in there.
Undeterred, I thought, "Well, that’s OK. I have an emergency kid potty in the back of my car. We’ll try that!”
The gremlin looked askance at the travel potty set in the grass behind my car. This was better than the field house but still not up to his high standards. Plus, I had no M&Ms. The blasphemy of it all!
I was about to put an emergency diaper on him when I had the brilliant yet foolish idea to try a “nature pee.” My fellow boy moms had told me about this. If your son is hesitant to potty train, try letting him pee standing up outside. They think it’s fun!
Well, the gremlin thought it was hysterical; almost as funny as poop jokes at the dinner table. He peed, giggled, and then ran onto the soccer field to tell his big sister. While I felt slightly embarrassed, I really didn’t care anymore. For a moment, it didn’t matter. I thought I had won.
I hadn’t won. Now that the gremlin knew the joys of nature pees, he refused the potty altogether. Why pee outside when he can water the grass, just like the dog? I calmly tried to explain to him that peeing outside is generally not acceptable and is only for urgent situations when you’re away from home.
Being 2.5, he understood 0% of that and screamed for his M&Ms (15 per pee, and they all have to be blue or red). Dad came home from work, and we hobbled along through the rest of the weekend, tricking him into the potty and questioning our (my) sanity for embarking on this journey.
The End of the Road
When Tuesday arrived and it was time for preschool, I nervously packed extra clothes and shared our potty training adventures with his teachers. They seemed surprised but were eager to help him out. We took him to the kids' bathroom and showed him the super cool potty and sink that all the big kids used.
The gremlin looked at me with disgust in his eyes, looked at his teacher, and said, “No.” If he knew how to give the middle finger, he would have.
I left school feeling both disappointed and cautiously optimistic. His teachers are wonderful, and he often behaves better at school than he does at home. Maybe they could work a potty-training miracle!
I’ll save you, reader, the suspense. No miracle occurred. The gremlin won the battle. He refused to use the potty and took it a step further by also refusing to drink anything. How he knew that hydration leads to using the potty, I have no idea. I might have a Stewie Griffin situation on my hands.
When I arrived to pick him up, his teachers looked frazzled and commented on how poorly behaved he had been that day. He refused to go and yelled at them whenever they suggested it. He was wildly disruptive in the classroom, a health risk by not drinking anything, and, overall… a gremlin.
They kindly told me that they couldn’t proceed with the potty training at school until he was willing to do it on his own. I nodded, sighed, and thanked them for their service.
When we got home, he did an Austin Powers-style 60-second pee, stretched, then asked for a dia-PAH. I strapped on the diaper, handed him his 25 blue and red M&Ms, and renewed my Prime diaper subscription.
I remain hopeful that I’ll successfully complete potty training soon. Keep an eye out for “The Diaper Chronicles: Part 2,” in which I hope to share my successes. In the meantime, for any other parents struggling like I am, the kid’s potty makes a great place to store your trucks.
