Someday He'll Read This Blog And Never Speak To Me Again

Two weeks ago my 3-year-old suddenly decided he wanted to be potty-trained.  He found some underwear and used the toilet often, not having an accident for the entire day.  He clearly understood the principles involved in this enterprise.  The next morning however, it all fell apart.  We had been dubious about letting him use underwear at bedtime, but he staunchly refused to be put back in diapers, repeating over and over that he was a big boy now.  In the morning his underwear and bed were wet.  He was embarrassed and confused at the trick his body was playing on him.  He refused to talk to us for the first hour of the day.  He wouldn’t be put back in diapers, nor listen to his parents’ pleas to use the toilet when the need was obvious.  In fact, it suddenly seemed that the very act of excitedly telling him it was time to use the potty like a big boy caused him to immediately pee on the floor. 

Everything was really falling apart.  The week was spent threatening, pleading, bribing (unfortunately that backfired and he wanted the treats without the try on the potty- causing major tantrums), picking up a thrashing child off the floor and washing him off by force, and cleaning up unsavory messes.  I might note that most of this was done by my husband, as I was not capable of catching him while on crutches.  As the time for my husband to return to work approached, he decided he was done with the whole ridiculous process and put him back in diapers (which he promptly took off as soon as Daddy left the house).  In a last-ditch effort (and thanks to the advice of a brother-in-law) he purchased pull-ups (and more treats).  We told our son they were special underwear just for him, not really expecting it to work, and that the glow-in-the-dark ones were for night.  He was so excited!  And, for that, so were we!

He still gets upset and throws the occasional tantrum, usually when he has to change out of a wet pull-up (denial?), but for the most part he is potty-training himself.  I have had no accidents to clean up, and don’t even have to remind him to use the toilet.  Long live pull-ups!

In other news, my baby has a bad tummy bug, and hasn’t kept much down since about 3 a.m., so there are still plenty of a different kind of mess to clean up.  Poor baby.   And he only wants Daddy (which has been pretty normal since I returned from my trip with a broken leg anyway).  We are praying that this bug moves through him quickly, and also that it doesn’t hit every person in the family.  Feel free to join in :).

Last week I had a physical therapy appointment.  My therapist put electrodes all over my leg and shocked me for 40 minutes.  Ouch.  But really, nothing my mom hadn’t done while we were growing up, haha.  I had to call her and tell her about the huge machine the therapist had instead of wires and copper pennies and whatever other stuff she and grandma used in their homemade versions.  I told her I’d consider getting her one for Christmas to add to her arsenal :).

Today my therapy appointment was a group appointment for people with leg problems, and wasn’t really geared for someone who can’t walk.  So I just did everything one-legged.  One-legged squats, yoga poses, leg raises, and stretches.  20 minutes after class the one leg that I thought of as my good leg was useless.  Lesson learned.  Go slower.  Don’t try to be a hero.

It’s getting better though.  Easier to straighten, easier to bend, not very painful, and I can put a little weight on it. 

Proud wife moment:  On finding out that I didn’t have carrots for my vegetable soup I turned dinner into vegetable-egg drop soup on a whim.  My husband likes egg drop soup ever so much better than vegetable soup and I’ve never made it for him.  This was all accomplished while standing on one leg and making children bring me various ingredients.  I was just grateful he was holding the child who was likely to project fluids (mostly) at any moment.