Carter marks his territory

Warning...This is a very candid account of the day in the life a potty training mommy. If you don't like to hear about bodily fluids please stop reading now.



I am done, giving up, conceding.

I am so over this potty training business. This is the third week of underwear only for Carter and I must admit I have become very trained at getting him to the bathroom. Most days we make it through the day with only one, maybe two accidents. But today, for some reason beyond my understanding, we have had more accidents than I can remember. There are currently four pair of peed on underwear in the sink and I know I already put some in the wash.

Speaking of wash--the laundry! I cannot begin to tell you how many extra loads of laundry I have been doing a day to clean up the numerous pair of urine soaked underwear and towels used to clean up said accidents. I know I have added at least one if not two extra loads a day to my already mountainous pile of laundry. Most times, Carter's underwear don't even make back into his drawer. They go straight from the laundry basket, to Carter's precious bottom, right back into the laundry pile.

The final straw was this afternoon when Carter had three accidents in less than two hours. And I'm not talking a little tinkle. I'm talking full fledged, let's pee a gallon on the floor accidents. He's like a wild animal. I don't think there is a room in the house where he hasn't marked his territory. Up until this point, I would like to think that I have remained calm. That I have used positive reinforcement, blew accidents off like it was no big deal, told him "you'll get the potty next time." But today, that all changed.

While throwing a fit because Aunt Tara left, Carter chose the steps as his next location to mark his territory. I promptly carried him to the bathroom, wiped him down, put new undies right back on, cleaned up the stairs, and went about my business making dinner. No more than 20 minutes later Jenna, who was ever to happy to report any news that may get her brother in trouble, broke the news that Carter just peed.

I left my dinner preparations and walked into my room. My room, the one that was perfectly clean not more than 30 minutes earlier. The one where the bed was actually made. And I will admit this is not a regular occurrence. All of my freshly laundered, 400-thread count sateen sheets, covers, and pillows had been pulled off the bed, spread across the bedroom floor and were spilling onto the bathroom floor. This is where Carter decided to leave his next puddle.

This is when it happened. This is when I became psycho mom. (You can ask my sister, I was on the phone with her. She was probably scared for her life, thinking that at any minute I might reach through the phone and get her too.) I was screaming, slamming doors, throwing peed soaked sheets down the steps. All while Jenna and Carter looked at me like I was the crazy one. Yet again, I cleaned Carter up and sent him downstairs, started more laundry, and finished dinner. Not more than fifteen minutes later, Carter was screaming "Mama pee" up the steps. By now you know the routine. Only this time a threw a bath in for good measure and then I conceded.

After his bath, I put a pull-up back on him. Not only because I couldn't handle cleaning up yet another puddle, but for no other reason than all of his underwear are currently in the washer, dryer or in the laundry pile. So for tonight, we are done.

Maybe tomorrow we'll try again. No child has ever gone to kindergarten in diapers have they? I still have a good three years before that will happen. If we don't make that goal maybe I'll shoot for middle school.