I thought I had it this time. We bought three boxes of those awful individually packaged fruit snacks because The Toddler adores them but we never buy any and they were on sale. When The Man threw them in the cart I said to The Toddler, “And you can have one of these when you go potty, okay?”
The Man said, “Ooh, good idea.”
After we got home, as I expected, fruit snacks were in high demand. I set down the rules. Fruit snacks were only to be obtained via using the (dun dun DUN) BIG POTTY, to which there were hurried footsteps to the bathroom. Thinking quickly I also said, “If you pee or poop in the potty Mommy will give you a snack.”
Otherwise? She’ll be running and sitting on the potty every five and a half minutes expecting a snack. (Quick thinking, me.)
I hadn’t said a word to anyone and after all of last week was expecting to come here this week and extoll the virtues of rubberized food items. Last week she used the potty regularly. She was in teeny tiny Dora the Explorer underpants and staying dry all day. She only wore a Pull-up at night. We were impressed. We high-fived each other behind her back.
We were smug.
Saturday, true to form, all hopes were dashed as her eagerness and cooperation were cut short. Instead of running to me when she had to pee (to make sure a snack would follow shortly) I was waving bags of fruit snacks in her direction asking if she had to go. The answer was always no.
I gave it the benefit of the doubt. I mean this was her main focus all week; I’m sure she was entitled to a break, right? Time to NOT think about the potty or Mommy’s expectations or Daddy’s lectures (sorry, honey) about being a big girl. I mean, she’s three. She had six days of non-stop potty training. Give her a break.
So I smiled and shrugged it off.
I haven’t been able to get her back on the potty since.
There are five packages of snacks in the last box in the cupboard. They’re beginning to look sad and neglected. Yesterday she wore a Pull-up most of the day and used it. The past three days I haven’t been able to get her to try to potty when she woke up. I can’t even get her to change her wet Pull-up for a dry one.
One step forward, three steps back.
For those of you who know me on Facebook you know The Toddler started ballet yesterday. I thought the other girls in her class would be potty trained. [Remember the disapproving glare from her pediatrician at her three year check up? I assumed all three year-olds here are potty trained.] I worried that they’d pick on her for wearing a Pull-up under her leotard. I almost put her in underwear, but if she had peed…well, we only have one leotard. She would have had to change clothes and wait for Daddy to come get us and not be able to dance with her class. I didn’t want her to be humiliated or embarrassed. I chose the lesser of two evils and sent her in a Pull-up hoping that, at best, she’d see the other girls weren’t wearing Pull-ups and would try again.
Turns out the other girls aren’t quite three yet so The Toddler is the oldest in the class and they’re all in Pull-ups.
*banging my head on the desk*
I can’t win.
Oh! Just for fun we got a surprise puppy last night after ballet. Now The Canine and The Toddler are leaving warm puddles of despair all over my carpets.
About the Author: Elisa Ashley
Elisa writes a personal blog (ElisaAshley.wordpress.com) in return for Ho-ho's and Banana Colada Fuze, ghostwrites for her daughter Abigail at The Abby Gales (www.abbyrory.blogspot.com) and also played the part of Ginger on Whisk-ers In Kitchens (www.whiskersinkitchens.wordpress.com). She is currently a full-time mom, part-time student, and part-time photographer. She resides reluctantly in Alabama with her invisible friends and itchy shutter release finger.