Jamie is potty trained.
*Drops mic* *Brushes off hands* *Walks off*
Okay, more details, fine. But you all know I’m not some sort of potty-training wizard, right? I, quite literally, put in the minimum amount of effort with Jamie that I have ever heard about for potty training.
I didn’t buy him any potty training books or have him watch any potty training videos. I rarely remembered to give him a treat after he used the toilet. Unlike Charles, he didn’t get a big bribe (Charles got a bicycle) when he was done.
He just decided last Friday that he didn’t want to wear diapers anymore. We had two very wet, very dirty days during which I changed his pants and underwear so many times that I went out and bought more pants for him. But on Sunday and Monday, he didn’t have any accidents. On Tuesday he had one. And he hasn’t had any since.
He’s potty trained, and I didn’t do a damn thing.
Indeed, if I remind him to go potty, he just looks at me like I’m nuts. He tells me when he wants to go. He refuses my help in the bathroom. I walked upstairs to help after he announced to us all, “I need to go pee-pee!” and ran off, but as soon as I poked my head into the bathroom, he yelled at me, “Go away, mommy!” I guess I’m not needed here.
My child astounds me. I’m still not used to not changing his diaper. A week ago, I was lugging a diaper bag everywhere. Now? A purse filled with snacks and a rolled-up set of underwear and pants just in case. Not that Jamie will need them. He’s got this.
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