Potty Training

I am wondering if I have ever posted on this subject before.

It is entirely possible that I have because I loathe the endeavor with such passion. And it is here that I often occasionally come to air my grievances.

Banjo appeared to be ready for the potty training and with dreams of less poopy diaper changes enticing me, I decided to try.

Potty Training. Not for the faint of heart.

Or for those who enjoy the simple things in life.

Like doing anything else. At. All.

I hear there are those of you out there who potty train "in 3 days" or some other such insanity. But I'll have you know - that's not how we do it around here. Nay. We prefer to take anywhere from 3 weeks to a year to achieve mastery of the art of elimination.  And even once we have grasped the concept - we enjoy an occasional regression.

Some times regression happens in the privacy of our home. Like in my garage when the child has climbed upon the mini van and pooped on the sun roof and then slid down the windshield of the car in his poopy underwear.

As awesome as that can be, it is always extra special when they "regress" in a public setting. Like at the nursery at church.

Yes, my boy shut down the piglets classroom a few weeks back. All piglets were relocated to the cows classroom thanks to a sizable download that apparently could not be contained by his "big boy underwear." Granted, Brent had dressed him for church that morning and it turned out he was in fact wearing "big girl underwear" - which may have contributed to the problem. Brent's excuse when asked why Banjo was wearing Sassy's underwear?: They were in his closet.

Men.

Honestly, some days he is a total potty rock star. And he is a self proclaimed, "potty beast" - just ask him. But some days I miss diapers. At least there was more containment.