Potty Training: The Prologue

Graham is :::dun-dun-DUN::: potty training. And you know what? It hasn’t been as bad as I’d convinced myself it would be.

I had no inclination to start seriously potty training this early. (Graham is almost exactly 2-and-a-half, and I’ve always kept age 3 in the back of my mind as the time we’d start really putting some effort into this. That’s not to say we’ve ignored the concept completely, though.

Right around his second birthday, I ordered a potty chair on a whim. He’d sit on it and think it was funny. It was several months later, when he moved into the older early preschool class (where everyone is supposed to be seriously potty training), that I caved under some pressure and bought some big boy underwear. Who can resist these, after all?

Surely not Graham. Sometimes we’d put them on him at night, at his insistence. He was getting pretty good at emptying his bladder on the potty before getting into the bath, so sometimes we’d let him run around in these after the bath. He thought it was a riot. We did too.

At some point, Graham got into the Thomas the Train cartoon series in a big way. We had a pack of Thomas underwear stashed in the drawer too, and somehow… some way… wearing those Thomas underwear became the biggest reward that kid could wrap his ever-loving mind around. He’d do anything to wear that Thomas underwear.

One morning about a month ago, he insisted that he wear Thomas underwear to school, couldn’t talk him out of it. He pooped his [undiapered] pants promptly at 8:00 am that morning.

Aaaand scene. I was in no mood to be washing poopy underpants out because my kid had a thing for Thomas. Clearly he wasn’t ready for this, and I was in no rush.

Little did I realize, though, that all the things I’ve described above were just his version of sticking his toes in the water, so to speak. Like Braxton Hicks contractions… they seem like nothing, but really – they’re leading up to the real thing.


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