Reader Beware: Painful Potty Trainathon in Progress

We are in the throes woes of potty training the Hurricane. One would question our timing with Jamie’s recent business trip to Kansas on Monday and mine to Chicago tomorrow. But with Mexico and preschool next month, we knew we had to make a move. Again.

As many of you know, this is not our first attempt. In fact, she was almost trained about five months ago until she woke up one day and announced she was retiring from the potty business. She assured me there was surely a better way to spend her time than wasting it on the porcelain throne (with a major emphasis on waste).

And she has not used it ever since. No amount of rewards, pressure or bribery have worked so I am in need of ideas. Fast. Many people have consoled me that she just turned three and “to just give it time.”

It is time. Supernanny time. [Cue music and the sound of weeping parents.]

Jamie and I were lying in bed flipping through the channels on his new HDTV a few weeks ago (a battle I clearly lost) when we came across that British vixen. Her latest conquest was a family in Hawaii who had a 3-year-old boy. Cute little Nathan enjoyed locking his brother in the stove, causing chaos at bedtime and defecating his diaper. Cute little Nathan needed a makeover.

Supernanny started by completely ditching the diapers except for at bedtime and presented him with full-time underwear. Cold turkey. And shockingly, Nathan rose to the occasion.

We perked up. If this little delinquent could do it, so could our bright Haddie. Err…right?

Wrooooooong! We are one week into full-time Dora panties and Hadley still will not go unless we encourage coax harass her. She has also peed everywhere except for the potty.

And then there is poop. The girl has yet to do it anywhere except for her underwear or diaper. In fact, it has become a game for her to see how long she can hold out. She gets this ability from me. Some of you may remember when, on a backpacking trip, my friend Dave christened me The Camel of the Pee World for my ability to hold out for an incredibly long time.

That was before I had children. I now live in The Pee Like a Racehorse World.

The other night just before bed, we changed Hadley into a diaper and within moments she pooped. Triumphantly, she squealed over her “victory” and gave us a look that said, “I WON BY HOLDING IT IN ALL DAY, YOU UNGRATEFUL PARENTS WHO NO LONGER WANT TO WIPE MY BUTT.”

Rest assured, this will be the inscription on her tombstone:

I should know. Because if this keeps up, we’ll probably be the ones who send her there.

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