Friday, July 31, 2009

"No more!"

Aidan is basically toilet trained. He still has some fine tuning, but I'm thrilled with where he's at. I'm sure the Dr. Vances and German nurses of the world would consider me not firm enough, not controlling enough, for accepting his current status as having earned the incentive Thomas roundhouse, but fortunate for Aidan, I'm not them. And of course, they wouldn't have even had the incentive in the first place. "You must show him who's boss!!!" He is still trying to convince me to let him have the diapers again, and even just two days ago demanded, "No, no more toilets! Not now, not ever!" Then added, "Mommy!" for even more emphasis. That speech therapy seems to help him at the oddest times. :) But all I have to do now is remind him that he will have to put his prized roundhouse away, if he refuses to use that dreaded toilet. So he continues.
And he went swimming today... without a swim diaper! Woo whoo!
I wish this was a cue that Jace is ready. I know better.
It's okay though, I need a rest from the whole process anyway. I figured out the real reason, or at least one, most parents don't push the issue with their kids these days... it's frankly easier to have them in diapers. We've now got to remember to remind him before leaving anywhere to go, remember to take a seat cover so he doesn't fall through, remember to use disinfectant wipes, (I must say GROSS to the whole public bathroom thing with kids!!!) remember to remind people we leave him with, on top of the constant following him in and helping him, etc. It's soooo time consuming! I can't just go to church, shopping, or wherever. I have to plan the potty visits into it now. But at least I won't have 3 kids in diapers all at once. And the trash bins aren't filling up quite so fast, for a few months... :)

1 comment:

Grandpa Weber said...

Congrats to you and Aidan on toilet training. It's a huge milestone. I know it's tough now, but it really does get better when he can manage the public restroom process himself -- and he will.

Love, Brent