We have slowly began to dip our toes into the icy cold waters of potty training. Wait. I mean, we aren't putting our feet in the toilet water or anything. That's an analogy. A metaphor, if you will.
I really hope I don't have to put my hands into toilet water.
Yeah, we're trying to start potty training.
Here's how it has gone so far:
People suggested "bribing" the child with sweets so they want to sit on the potty. We got some M&M's because that's Evelyn's kryptonite. She can't resist them. No matter what. She's even become somewhat of an M&M missionary, trying to share that sugary gospel message with her toys (See previous blogs). So M&M's should work, right?
We purchased a potty at Target for about ten dollars. What a steal! We thought, "Man, it even has a lid on it so she can use it as a step stool to wash her hands when she's done!"
My! How practical of us! How cunning! How informed are we, right?
Everything was perfect. The stage was set.
M&M's in hand, potty in the right place in the bathroom, and Evelyn down to her diaper. She gladly took the first chocolate candy in hand and promptly placed it in her mouth. Then we set her bare butt down on the chair and...
Tears erupted.
She went Pompeii on us.
An eruption of sorrow.
Fear and agony and anger and pain and the most hideous wails of suffering followed. It was as if she was screaming, "Don't make me do this! It burns the flesh! It freezes! What pain I am subjected to is unfathomable beyond human words! No language on earth can express the ache my skin now feels."
You believe I'm over-dramatizing it, but you weren't there.
So... potty training has taken a back seat, for the time being. We're going to try and come at it from a different angle.
I'm not really concerned about it, to be honest. Not spending money on diapers would be nice, but if she's not ready then I'd rather wait a few more months than have her develop an irrational fear of toilets.
Or... have to hear that horrible cry again.
