Toilet Talk

For some time now, my little Bug has shown all the frequently listed signs of potty-training readiness. She likes to follow people to the restroom. She talks about what is in her diaper. She thinks "poo poo" is about the funniest word there is. She tells me when she is wet and she demands to be changed.

Then came bath night. Wrapped in her adorable little duckie towel, she sang her "bawk bawk" song to me. For some unknown reason, her ducks bawk rather than quack, but that is probably irrelevant. She waddled around, bawked and froze.

Panic was in her eyes.

Mommy! Mommy! I need a diaper! I going to poop on the floor!

OK, sweetie. Let's go to the potty.

No! I need a diaper!

Don't you want to go potty like Bear and Mouse and Mommy and Daddy?

No!

Duckies like potties.

Ok, so I was running out of coercive techniques. She looked at me intensely.

Mommy. I. Going. To. Poop. On. The. Floor.

I was at a loss. Clearly I was losing and was going to have to either give her a diaper or clean the floor very shortly. My baby was clearly ready for the toilet, being fully aware of what was going on. But she also had an obvious attachment to the diaper. The bizarre thought of what life would be like when she is sixteen and still attached to her diaper crossed my mind. Yes, this is one of the games my mind plays on me when I am feeling not so secure as a parent...I imagine what life will be like if whatever issue is not resolved. Right now. There is no period of learning between this instant and sixteen.

It probably isn't healthy, but I digress.

Struck with sudden insight and the memory of left over materials from making candy airplanes, I switched gears from subtle coercion to outright bribery.

If you sit on the potty, you can have a candy.

And off she ran.

And she has gone five days with only two accidents. One of which was because we just couldn't get her snowsuit off fast enough.

We're almost out of candy, however.