Keaton, it's weird with you. I mean, it's weird with you in SO. MANY. WAYS.....but what I'm alluding to here, is how when we wrote stories on this blog about Colton when we first started this blog journey. So often it was - "his first smile", or "his first time going to Grandma's house" or "his first tractor ride".....goodness we documented EVERY first with Colton.
And with you, Keaton -- I get to record our final go at things. (Emmalyn, sorry babe, this is where the middle child kind of gets ripped off....bear with me though, you're my only girl and there is value in that....trust me and Aunt Jessica on that one). You were our final one to watch roll over, learn to crawl, start to talk and now, our final one to potty train.
Hold your horses....we're not 100% there yet. Because,well, you're Keaton. That would be FAR too easy. But I think we've made it to the finish line between the hours of 7am-9pm....which is a feat. And typically, you wake up dry, so we're SO CLOSE.
But dear child...it's been a journey. Just like everything else with you so far in this life....potty training you has provided us with so many sighs, shaken heads, flat out laughs, and cheers of joy.
(Note: you pooped your pants tonight. Out of nowhere. You haven't done that in a good week or more. See the note above about this being a journey....).
We spent a LOT of time talking about peeing and pooping in the potty. We'd take one step forward, and two steps back. One particular morning, after you'd pooped in your pants as we were walking out the door, of course, we chatted about pooping in Pammy's potty. I kept bringing it up, thinking if I did, you'd suddenly be like, "oh ya, cool, I'll do that mom!" Suddenly, from the back seat, I hear, "Mom, top it, DAT NASTY"........................................apparently, you weren't a fan of my pep talk!
When I'd finally gotten to a breaking point, ready to try anything, because everything I'd read in the books, everything that had worked on your siblings, anything that had worked for anyone who came before you -- hadn't worked for you. Pam sent me a suggestion, I think as a joke, about letting you write with a dry erase marker on the back of the toilet while you tried to go. At this point, I'd try ANYTHING.
IT WORKED!!!! Well, sort of....but at least it kept your attention for a bit, to allow you to go, to realize it's cool to go IN THE POTTY rather than IN THE PANTS!! And of course, you kept doing this, so you could earn the truck you'd picked out, when we succumbed to bribing you with a truck you picked out for yourself.
How proud you were the day you earned it, and how thankful we were you finally earned it!! (There's a story here too....about the night you picked out this truck....but this blog is already getting long. Suffice it to say, you were dry all day at Pam's, peed your pants on my porch, stayed dry while we drove darn near all over White County, stopping every 16 minutes to let you try to pee, only to have you pee your pants as soon as we got back home......needless to say, you didn't earn this truck THAT night....but a few nights later).
So, now you're basically potty trained, and it's a whole new world for us. We don't HAVE to pack a diaper bag when we go places. We do pack extra clothes, just to be safe, but you're rocking this thing and it's so weird to think we've gotten past the point of buying diapers.
Now, we just spend our days telling you to keep your hands out of your pants. Total boy.
And with you, Keaton -- I get to record our final go at things. (Emmalyn, sorry babe, this is where the middle child kind of gets ripped off....bear with me though, you're my only girl and there is value in that....trust me and Aunt Jessica on that one). You were our final one to watch roll over, learn to crawl, start to talk and now, our final one to potty train.
Hold your horses....we're not 100% there yet. Because,well, you're Keaton. That would be FAR too easy. But I think we've made it to the finish line between the hours of 7am-9pm....which is a feat. And typically, you wake up dry, so we're SO CLOSE.
But dear child...it's been a journey. Just like everything else with you so far in this life....potty training you has provided us with so many sighs, shaken heads, flat out laughs, and cheers of joy.
(Note: you pooped your pants tonight. Out of nowhere. You haven't done that in a good week or more. See the note above about this being a journey....).
We spent a LOT of time talking about peeing and pooping in the potty. We'd take one step forward, and two steps back. One particular morning, after you'd pooped in your pants as we were walking out the door, of course, we chatted about pooping in Pammy's potty. I kept bringing it up, thinking if I did, you'd suddenly be like, "oh ya, cool, I'll do that mom!" Suddenly, from the back seat, I hear, "Mom, top it, DAT NASTY"........................................apparently, you weren't a fan of my pep talk!
When I'd finally gotten to a breaking point, ready to try anything, because everything I'd read in the books, everything that had worked on your siblings, anything that had worked for anyone who came before you -- hadn't worked for you. Pam sent me a suggestion, I think as a joke, about letting you write with a dry erase marker on the back of the toilet while you tried to go. At this point, I'd try ANYTHING.
How proud you were the day you earned it, and how thankful we were you finally earned it!! (There's a story here too....about the night you picked out this truck....but this blog is already getting long. Suffice it to say, you were dry all day at Pam's, peed your pants on my porch, stayed dry while we drove darn near all over White County, stopping every 16 minutes to let you try to pee, only to have you pee your pants as soon as we got back home......needless to say, you didn't earn this truck THAT night....but a few nights later).
So, now you're basically potty trained, and it's a whole new world for us. We don't HAVE to pack a diaper bag when we go places. We do pack extra clothes, just to be safe, but you're rocking this thing and it's so weird to think we've gotten past the point of buying diapers.
Now, we just spend our days telling you to keep your hands out of your pants. Total boy.
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