Adventures in Potty-Training

Some of you know I am potty training Deacon. My mom knows, because she cleaned poo off her bathroom floor. My sisters-in-law know, because they witnessed the brown streaks running down Deacon's legs. My neighbors know because for the past few weeks they haven't seen Deacon wearing pants.

Me, interrupting Chris while talking to him on the phone: "Deacon, you cannot be in naked in the front yard! Come to the back yard if you want to be naked."

Chris: "Yeah, that makes it o.k."

Well, after three somewhat hellish weeks, Deacon had finally started to become the potty master. The real turning point came when I hit upon the perfect reward system. No M&M's for him. "Deacon, if you poop in the potty I'll let you play with fire!" I do not actually give my two year old a box of matches. I have my limits. I just light a candle and let him blow it out a couple of times. He loves it! Last month I was on the phone with Poison Control after Deacon drank some upholstery cleaner (apparently harmless), when he started tugging on me.

"Mom, I want fire."

"Deacon, wait until I get off the phone with Poison Control, and then you can play with fire."

Parenting at its finest.

Anyway, I'm getting off track. Deacon was having several accident free days in a row and keeping his diaper dry at night. I was celebrating the fact that after eight years of changing bums, the end was in sight. Then we went on vacation.

Braver women than me would have left their toilet training child in undies, and stopped every hour to use toilets with questionable sanitary conditions. I wussed out and stuck Deacon in diapers for four days.

When we got back home, it was like starting over. Despite the fact that I told him Buzz Lightyear would be sad if Deacon got him wet, Buzz, Woody, and the rest of the gang have been soaking this week. This morning I stuck Deacon on the potty and he let loose. Unfortunately, I had forgotten to make sure Deacon was aiming for the toilet and not the ceiling. Equally unfortunate was the fact that I was standing between the toilet and the ceiling. After getting a full body soaking from the face (yes, face) downward, I threw a pair of undies on the kid and headed for the shower.

Chris had been out bike riding during this morning adventure. "Why are you dressed so early?" he asked when he got back.

"I had a pee incident."

"Are you the one who peed on the bathroom rug?"

An hour later, Deacon came up to me, arms outstretched. I picked him up, only to discover something slightly unpleasant. Buzz Lightyear was unhappy.

I love you, Deacon, but it's time for tough love. From now on only one pee on mom incident per day.