Well, we've taken the plunge. "Diaper" is now a dirty word around the Hewitt house.
With spring break on the horizon and my mom coming to stay for a week and a half, we decided it was time to tackle the dreaded "P" word and get potty training over with, once and for all. I had planned this for months--I did lots of reading, bought training pants, and got plenty of pull-ups ready for naptime and bedtime. When I told people our plans, the response was almost universally skeptical, but I persisted.
"What if they're not ready?" people would say.
"But they ARE ready," I would say.
"What if they don't want to do it?" they would ask.
"They WILL do it," I would answer.
"Both of them at the same time?" they would question.
"Of course! They'll learn from each other," I would reason.
"Are you sure they're old enough?" they would say.
"SURE, they're old enough. We're going to do this!" I would assure them.
After all, they're almost two years old, I told myself. My mom potty trained me and my siblings by the time we were two. LOTS of kids are trained at this age. And we are all completely sick and tired of diaper rash. So what if there are two of them? It may be twice as messy, but we'll figure it out. They know how to say "tee-tee", "poo-poo" and "yay!" --what else do you need to know? We're set!
My mountain of confidence lasted about two hours into the first potty training day. After several glasses of juice, a dozen accidents, and the worst meltdown I'd seen from Noah in a long time, I was ready to throw in the pee-soaked towel and admit defeat. My careful plans and charts I'd made were abandoned. Noah was such a basket-case I ended up putting a diaper back on him. Thank goodness for Grandma, who calmed me down and convinced me to give it a little more time.
So after a little while, I took off Noah's diaper and held him down on the potty for a few minutes as he screamed and fought and....FINALLY went tee-tee in spite of himself. He immediately looked down, surprised, and seemed short of shocked and relieved that he hadn't self-destructed. Half an hour later, he sat calmly as he relieved himself, then clapped his hands and shouted, "Yay!" as he gleefully accepted his candy reward. It's amazing what changes an hour or two can bring!
And Lily, bless her juice-guzzling little heart, had more accidents than successes that first day--despite her apparent understanding of the whole potty process. But she's gradually done better and better too.
As for myself, I'm still terrified to leave the house with them and I'm not sure how complete their training will be by the end of this week, when I go back to work and real life resumes. But I find myself so proud of them that I can't help but think they may continue to surprise me.
...and I'm really, REALLY glad we have tile floors now. Can't even tell you how glad.
Watching their hero Elmo talk about using the potty: