The hubby and I talked about who would get up and handle night time feeding. Birthday parties. What would we do when he wanted a Mohawk, a piercing, or a tattoo. We had philosophical chats about t-ball, corporal punishment vs. timeouts, and how long I would breastfeed.
Before parenthood there were a shit ton of things I'd never considered or even knew existed. Like what a doula was, an episiotomy, or whether or not I would circumcise my son. I didn't know what attachment parenting was or how to use a breast pump.
I don't like making uninformed decisions, especially when my child is at stake. So I research and research and research until I am satisfied that I'm doing what I honestly think is best for my little love bug.
Other things I just really thought I knew. I'm an Early Childhood Educator for Pete's sake! At least a 150 kids have been in my class. I'm good at what I do. Really.
So there were a few things I was for sure not going to worry about. Like discipline. Consistency. Language development (unless I had to, and of course I would know). Socialization. Close to the top of my list was potty training.
I've been there, done that, with so many families. I knew what the signs of toilet learning readiness were. When to start and when to step back.
Oh I knew. Like all childless people, I knew.
I had it all planned out. I would simply wait until my son showed all the signs of readiness, was physically ready and could verbally express his needs. I the great knowing mother would just follow his lead. It was that simple. Why complicate matters? Why push my needs and desires onto this little person? Why turn it into a needless power struggle?
Why indeed.
Here's the thing. I'm pretty sure he's there. He's even asked to use the toilet and then gone. Successfully. And you know what I'm ready. I'm tiered of spending money on diapers, wipes, desitin, and diaper genie refills. I'd love to put that money into his college savings account.
So now here I am. Buying a potty seat. Underwear. Researching how to potty train a boy. Getting stickers and a few other little rewards (bribes). Fingers crossed hoping I'm not going to be starting a terrible power struggle I'm bound to lose.
Any tips?
I had it all planned out. I would simply wait until my son showed all the signs of readiness, was physically ready and could verbally express his needs. I the great knowing mother would just follow his lead. It was that simple. Why complicate matters? Why push my needs and desires onto this little person? Why turn it into a needless power struggle?
Why indeed.
Here's the thing. I'm pretty sure he's there. He's even asked to use the toilet and then gone. Successfully. And you know what I'm ready. I'm tiered of spending money on diapers, wipes, desitin, and diaper genie refills. I'd love to put that money into his college savings account.
So now here I am. Buying a potty seat. Underwear. Researching how to potty train a boy. Getting stickers and a few other little rewards (bribes). Fingers crossed hoping I'm not going to be starting a terrible power struggle I'm bound to lose.
Any tips?
