There’s an epic battle of the wills underway at my house, between two parents who are over buying pull-ups and their children who are no-nope-no-way-not-going-to-do-it-no-never-nope refusing to poop on the potty.
On Sunday we told them, “no more diapers,” and hid our stash of pull-ups, aka “robot pants.” They even wore underwear to bed for the first time last night, and kept ‘em dry until morning. The problem? No poop. For almost two days (Henry) and two days and going strong (Eleanor).
Here was my exhausting day today:
Henry and/or Eleanor: I need to poop. I need robot pants!
Jennifer: Sorry, no more diapers, remember? We poop on the potty.
Henry and/or Eleanor: No! I need robot pants! I NEED ROBOT PANTS!
Jennifer: I’m sorry, but you’re a big kid now. Big kids poop on the potty. Come on, I’ll go sit in the bathroom with you.
Henry and/or Eleanor: I can’t!
Jennifer: Yes you can! I know you can. You’ve done it once before, remember? You can do it. I’ll be there with you.
Henry and/or Eleanor: I WON’T! (insert tantrum or crying as needed)
Repeat for ten hours and…scene.
Peeing? We’ve had that down for quite a while now. Pooping? Is driving Andy and me insane. Granted, my brain has blacked out all of those early newborn-twin sleepless days, but I have to say, potty training has been the shittiest parenting experience so far, pun very much intended.