The Potty Training Diaries

Confession time.  I am a terrible mother. Why, you ask?  Because, despite purchasing a toddler potty for Emery when Brynn was like 4 weeks old (she's now 15 months, so you do the math), I've never really made a concentrated effort to do the whole potty training thing.

First, I held off because I had a newborn on my hands.  After that, I delayed because work was insane and I was struggling to muster the energy.  Then, I held off because we accidentally bought a house.  Next, I held off because we accidentally sold our house earlier than expected.  Then, it was the holidays.  Then, we moved into the apartment.  I think you see where this is going.  Bottom line is that I do not think I'll be crowned Mother of the Year for 2015 or 2016.  I kind of hope that Mothering is one of those things where you get a trophy just for participating- like AYSO soccer.

In an effort not to double fail her, I am going to document the achievement of this milestone though.  Because I'm a parent and that's part of our doctrine, right?

Emery was highly familiar with the toilet and used it on her terms.  There were plenty of successes but we still weren't batting 1,000, which is pretty important in this particular aspect of life.  Early this year Ryan and I resolved that we needed to do the ol' go-pantsless-for-an-entire-weekend-and-pray with-all-our-might-that-other-parents-were-correct methodology.  The problem was finding a weekend that we could make it happen.

As fate would have it, the weekend of February 12th, between my Friday off and Ryan's day off for President's Day, we realized we had a 4 day stretch of weekend and penciled it in.  I mean, really, what is more romantic for Valentine's Day than hanging out on a plastic tarp in your living room?  Nothing.

Potty Training boot camp commenced at approximately 9:15 am on Friday February 12th.  Around 10:32 am Emery let me know that "her pants is wet, Mommay."  Thankfully our little love was a quick study because after that she really only had 1 more accident THE ENTIRE WEEKEND.  We were both so ridiculously proud of her.

The following week at school she averaged 1 accident per day until Thursday when Daddy had the bright idea to bribe incentivize her with ice cream if she had no accidents.  The Martin/Boarman love o' food is strong with this one because as soon as I walked in the door (and I do mean AS SOON AS) to school to pick her up that evening, she started pointing at her pants, reminding me they were the same ones I put her in that morning and demanding ice cream.

And- voila!  Since then, I don't think she's had a single accident.  That isn't to say that there won't be another accident on the horizon, but I am pretty pumped to be able to say that Emery is potty trained (and to cut our monthly Amazon diaper shipment in half).  We are so proud of you, love bug!  Now, let's just work on letting your roommates (read: Daddy and I) utilize the restroom in peace, huh?

Just having a little panty picnic.