P-Day, part deux

One year ago today I was in this same position with my oldest son. He was 3 1/2, and I was feeling the social pressure of needing to potty train him so that he wouldn't require diapers when he went off to college. Gratefully, his age helped greatly, and last Christmas break he was trained in about 20 minutes. I believe we've had 5 accidents since then. Don't worry--I'm not crediting any success of his to my extraordinary parenting skills. I'm too wise for that.

Now onto son number two. My reasoning for attempting to train him this year is different--Dutch, mostly. Last year I had two in diapers; this year I am foreseeing the possibility of starting 2011 with none in diapers. I can hear cash registers ringing and can see dollar signs of savings in my eyes. Some people give up smoking and save the money they would have spent on cigarettes by treating themselves to a vacation, cruise, etc. I'm considering doing the same with the diaper money.

Alas, my youngest is only 2 1/2 and not showing real interest in the potty. We've done everything the same this year to prepare: using the Advent calendar to countdown (Jesus was born on the 25th, but he will be going on the potty on the 16th). He knows the entire mantra of going on the potty, getting treats, wearing underwear, being a big boy, etc. I did forget to purchase treats ahead of time, but a neighborly Christmas angel dropped them in my mailbox just this morning. Operation Potty Training has begun.

This year I look on it with different eyes. I realize, after having gone through it with my first, that potty training is more than just avoiding diapers and relieving oneself on the proper toilet; it's the first step into the responsibility of life. Now I will expect him to keep track of his bodily functions and to alert me before it's too late. It's the first time I'm going to ask him to take care of himself.

Currently he's running around semi-naked in the basement, buns exposed as much as the day he was born. We've had 2 successes and 2 accidents so far. Not great, but if he were a baseball player who batted .500, he'd be the top draft and desired by all teams. I'm just pretty sure for a entire 9 inning game that I'd put him in diapers--I'd hate for him to have an accident out on the field.

We'll see what the day brings and who eats more M&M treats at the end of the day. Little brother who is trying to earn them as rewards; oldest brother who has taken on the parental role of distributing the M&Ms upon successes (and requires a fee for himself); or Mommy, who has once again required herself to be stranded at home over Christmas break panicking every time she hears the word "uh-oh" come out of anyone's mouth. Chocolate may be the only way out of this day.