I feel like a National Geographic wildlife photographer trying not to be noticed while watching the toddler for signs of impending potty needs.

Maybe I should melt down more often. We finally had success with Jessie tonight!

Potty Training is Going to Kill Me

I swear that potty training my 2-year-old is going to kill me. It's not the way I pictured I would go, but the Pearly Gates seem like a pretty welcome sight in my 46th minute of sitting on the side of the bathtub waiting for the tiniest drop to hit the water so we can have the biggest, baddest celebration the world has ever known. But no. Not today. Probably not tomorrow. Heck, probably not next month.

Her wonderful preschool teachers swear that she only goes in the potty at school, but she has never once gone in ours over the last 6 months of running to the potty every time she wants.

Don't you dare ask her if she wants to go unless you are prepared for an eardrum rumbling series of toddler expletives - I can't understand her, so who knows what she's really saying. I probably don't want to know.

This is the child that woke up dry the other morning. I just knew this was my chance, but twenty minutes of sitting on a stool, straddling the front of the potty while hugging this tiny emotional powder keg and I've got nothin. Zip. Nada.

The other day she peed on the carport and quickly told her daddy with way to much optimism, "I not pee in your house!" See, that seems to be our motto these days - Don't pee in my house! Well, evidently she doesn't consider her booster seat, the living room floor, the bathroom floor, her brother's room, the kitchen floor, her bedroom floor or even my bed to be part of my house because she's peed in all of them.

I started this all extremely optimistic. I just knew that she would pick it right up and we would all live in bliss not having to buy diapers anymore. Right now all I know is that potty training is going to kill me, and I'm just about ready for it.

Doesn't everyone sit at the table like this?

Sittin' side saddle waiting for a miracle.


And no, there is nothing in that cup. She's just playing with it.

I thought it was tough when they clung to you and cried for you not to go, but it's so much worse when they take off and wave bye to you without a second thought.

Jessie Anne just watched me paint Maggie Anne's fingernails. When Maggie left, Jessie scooted over into her chair without saying a word and handed me the fingernail polish.

Even though it was against my better judgement, I went ahead and painted Jessie's fingernails telling her that she had to keep her fingers apart and not touch anything. Well, that was a half hour ago and she's still walking around the house with her fingers spread out not touching anything. I may be on to something!