We Seymours are caught between two worlds right now, as the photo of Danny's room illustrates. For better or worse (please, oh please don't let it be worse), we've decided that this weekend it is time to once again attempt to potty train the Danimal. Ugh.
But, it's time. Danny knows exactly what he is doing, and I'm tired of deodorizing the playroom as a result. We're tired of diapers, and wipes. And I imagine he's tired of us telling him that he needs to learn to use the potty. So, come Saturday morning, the lockdown begins. I anticipate keeping him home from music class on Monday, and school on Tuesday and Thursday. It will quite possibly be the longest week of my life. But as Tim reminds me, billions of people before us have accomplished this. Surely we can, too.
For one thing, we have brand-new bunk beds with cowboy sheets. He will not be permitted to sleep in these until we've had some measure of potty-related succcess. For another, we have chocolate and stickers for each time he is successful. Not to mention a vast assortment of underwear, including Spider Man.
I fear I am still a bit short on confidence and patience. But what I lack in these I will make up for in coffee and wine. And the mantra Amy left me after paying for my coffee in advance while she was ahead of me in the Starbucks drive-through. With support like this, how can we fail?
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