This weekend we got hard core with the potty training. We enacted the big boy underwear plan. This plan is very simple. Braden wears tiny little underwear with Cars designs. Arica and I take him to the bathroom every thirty minutes in the hope of avoiding accidents while at the same time drilling him on the fun of using the toilet. Repetition. Repetition. Repetition.
I think the weekend went well. On Saturday we had three accidents. On Sunday we had none. And this morning before I left for work Arica got Braden to poop in the toilet. Braden demanded that his Mom leave the room to give him privacy. Apparently that was all he needed. While she waited in the wings Braden went to the bathroom on his own. Big win.
Saturday we nearly avoided all three accidents. Braden told me he had to pee pee the first time. Even though he released the flow before he told me, we did manage to get some in the toilet. The other two accidents involved the big number two. We almost made it to the toilet the first time. I just caught him to late. We ran as fast as we could, but, alas, the deed was already done.
Later in the day just before Braden's 30 minute appointment at the porcelain throne, I had to use the bathroom. When I was done I went to get Braden. I set him on the toilet unaware of what he had been doing while I was in the bathroom.
That's when my ever inquisitive son pointed to the floor and said, "Daddy, what's that?"
To which I answered, "That's your poop."
Such are the adventures in potty training. Even with the excitement of floor poop, I have to say that it went a lot better than I expected. So off we go to the first full week of Lightning McQueen underwear. Wish us luck.