It's that time again. POTTY TRAINING. Poo in a sack. Pee in a cup. No diapers. Wet pants. Trying not to heave as you cut princess covered drippy, crap-filled underwear from your lovely baby's dimply butt. Wonderful imagery, isn't it?
I was unreasonably lucky the last 2 rounds. While I did have to handle some messes, my mom did round 1 of potty boot camp for me while I finished up my last semester in college. My mother-in-law did round 2 while I was hiking around Yosemite. I swear I didn't plan it that way, but damn it worked out well! Now I'm stuck with round 3. No more mothers to use and the other 2 are busy. Double damn.
She's only 19 months old so I'm not freaking out here. But she walks up to tell me when she's parking some bark and when she's done and if I've missed it. She watches all of us use the facility with apt attention and hands us the paper and waves bye-bye as our products do a happy little swirl into poopy-land. So, I'm going to do what I did with the other 2, pick up a potty for her to lug around the house for a few months before we pick a potty boot camp week.
Have you looked at the potties these days?! They sing songs. They travel. They are molded. They transform. They hold the toilet paper. They probably have one that will wipe your kid's ass for you. What the hell? Seriously. These things were not this complicated 10 years ago. I just need a miniature toilet look-alike that has a cup I can take out and, you know, rinse and sanitize. It doesn't need to play my kid's favorite Katey Perry song or do the pee pee dance with them. Seriously. Has everyone gone mad? I mean, really?
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