How I Potty Trained a Freshly-Turned 3 Year Old

I thought she would go to Kindergarten in diapers.  I really did.  We begged and pleaded and bribed and sat and pleaded and bribed and begged some more.  NOTHING DOING.  This girl wasn't ditching the diapers for Starbursts, Little People Carriages, or even offers for anything she wanted.  I couldn't understand it.  Girls were supposed to be way more advanced on this stuff than boys.  She was supposed to potty train herself at 18 months, for crying out loud.  Her brother was 2 1/2 when he traded the Pampers for the Spiderman.  She was now 3.  And, it was slightly ridiculous.  Not even slightly.  I was so done with her not being potty trained. 

Wouldn't YOU be ready to see this face regularly if you were a toilet?!

But, as I might have mentioned previously, no amount of any efforts on my part were going to make a difference in that stubborn little mind.  And, so, I had given up.  "She'll go when she's ready," my mom kept saying.  I guess so.  I figured by the time we moved and had gotten settled, we could try again.  She'd only be 1/2 way to 4.  Who cares, right?

And, so it was very innocently one Monday afternoon in mid-June when Mr. A asked me if THIS was the week he was going to gymnastics camp.  "Not this week, I replied, but next week."  Miss M happened to be within earshot and quickly piped up, "I want to go to gymnastics camp!  Mommy, I go, too, with Mr. A?"

"No, you can only go to gymnastics camp if you go on the potty ALL the time - every single time - and wear big girl panties."

"Fine, Mom.  I do it.  I go ALLL the time.  I go get my big girl panties right now."

She had one week and I figured we'd see.  Gymnastics camp hung over her head like the biggest dangling carrot ever.  A few accidents here and there in the next 5 days, but wouldn't you know that this little girl got to go to gymnastics camp the following week with her big brother and did not have one accident.  Not even a squirt. 

Her best buddy, Mr. A., took her every time she needed to go.  He has a good heart, that Mr. A.  And, the 2 of them have a pretty tight squeeze on one another's hearts. 

I'm pretty sure they held hands just like this every time he took her to the bathroom.  Love these two.

I will most certainly not win any Mother of the Year Awards for how I potty trained my first daughter.  I don't care, though.  I bought her potty training-ness for a pretty penny.  And wish I'd done it 6 months earlier. 

Miss M, for the record, you were worth every penny anyway!  Sure love you!