This was our third attempt at potty training. I tried getting him used to the potty first when he was about a year and a half old. No dice. He wanted nothing to do with it. He also never minded dirty diapers, so he could care less if he was making a mess. Tried again at about 2 1/2. Figured maybe he was a little older and he'd have more interest. Uh, no. He wouldn't even sit. We kept the potty out all the time and asked him occasionally if he wanted to try it, showed him all the bribes, and stickers, and charts, and he said an unequivocal "NO".
So, at 3 1/4, I decided it was definitely time. He can talk, he can do things on his own, he wants to be a big boy. So... I took him to Target to pick out his own potty. He let me know, finally, that he was scared of all the other potty's we'd tried because he was afraid of falling in or his butt stuck to them. He picked out one he loved and makes music when he goes. It's now a phantom potty though and goes off whenever it wants, not just when he uses it, but... It WORKED! He's not done yet, and still has an accident a day and saves poops for his pull-up right before bed, but one hurdle is down. Can you see my ecstatic face?
The newest thing, and the thing that worked the most? Bribing him with Hulk Hands. He saw them on TV and then in Target, and he flipped over them. I bought them and stuck them on the kitchen counter and told him he could have them when he filled his sticker chart. He only needs three more. Is it weird to be this proud?
We went to our normal Sunday breakfast today and were enjoying being able to sit outside. Ryan insisted on wearing his Batman pj's, so to stop an argument, we let him, and he got lots of cute comments about his get-up (he did look pretty darn cute). Overall, was an excellent breakfast with no major issues. Until Mark went inside to pay. Ryan wanted to follow him, no big deal. I waited outside and got our stuff together to go. I look up to see Ryan coming out the door and an older woman... dropping... the door... on his hand! He started screaming bloody murder and the woman stops for a second, says nothing, and walks into the restaurant. I was too busy holding and soothing Ryan to say anything to her, but I was marginally upset by it. I hate to see him in pain.
The waiter brought us a cup of ice for his hand and eventually he calmed down all while sporting a huge bruise on his poor little hand. The waiter and waitress' were a bit disgusted, since we are regulars and they know us quite well, and they all comforted him too. It was kind of sweet.Then we start to walk to the car. I lean over to get Ry into the car and I hear this woman screaming all the expletives one could conjure at her boyfriend/husband, who was pushing a child with a full leg cast in a wheelchair while she was dragging another child by the arm. Did I mention she was screaming? A lot. Before I could stop myself or even knew what I was doing, I started screaming back at her to "Shut the hell up . There are kids all around you and no one needs to hear your bullshit." Yes folks, I responded to her inane ass with more expletives. I have a potty mouth anyway, but this time my point was lost by screaming them back at her. I was livid and unable to contain it. Mark said I was bright red.
I garnered a lot of attention, and, well, it shut her up.
The bad part is, I had to explain to Ryan all the way home how mommy was wrong and should not have screamed at anyone, regardless of how upset they make her. How we don't solve things by screaming. He patted my arm and said "sometimes people are bad mommy." Ah, the words of Batman...
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