Potty Training

I am the worst at potty training.  Absolutely wretched.  My patience goes from 10 to 0 in no time when my kids have an accident.  Fortunately I'm aware of this defect in myself and try very hard to compensate.  Today I got a good test.

Abbie is in gymnastics.  We signed her up as a birthday gift this year and she loves it.  Stephen and Clara and I color and read books while she tumbles to her hearts content.  Then came that dreaded call.  You know, that time when the teacher opens to door and scans the 20 or so parents, holding my soaked child at an arms distance.  "Abbie's mom!" she practically yelled.  I hoped up and grabbed Abbie.  In my desire to quickly get her to the bathroom, I was quite un-strategic and stuck her butt under my arm.  Yup, soaked my shirt with pee.  Great.

Once she was cleaned up and back in class (I did hold it together, no fussing at her), I sat down in my pee shirt and proceeded to finish coloring with Clara and Stephen - trying to ignore my wet arm and the lingering odor.  My dear friend, Teresa, loaned me a shirt at our lunch playdate.  All was well.

I still can't wait until potty training is done.  

1 comment:

Rhesa said...

That's hilarious!!! I hate potty training, too. Jude was my longest. He was almost 3 and still in pee soaked pullups. It was the end of summer and warm outside, so I decided to let him run around outside with only a t- shirt. Everytime he had to go, he would pause and realize he had to do something, because 'old reliable' wasn't on his bottom. It worked, except for the fact that an elder from our church drove out here to the country to see us one day and there was my 3rd world child running outside naked. I humbly apologized and he said, 'oh that's okay, they do that in Africa'. I was thinking, gee, thanks that makes me feel better.