The roller-coaster ride of potty training is never a fun ride. And although it has been many years since I
have had the privilege of jumping on this ride I still remembered it… I
remember it well. My memories of this aren't pretty. Anxiety would kick in whenever
I would think about the inevitable journey that was waiting for me. There is no magic recipe to this; no fairy
godmother will be waiting to fix things; no magic star to wish upon. Every one of my kids produced a different experience. Some easier than others but one thing was
constant… crap was always waiting to hit the floor and accidents were just a
ticking time bomb of stress.
When this most recent
(and last I might add) child became ready for this crossover into “big-girl-land" I knew it was time to dig deep. The
dread and stomach dropping feel was real but I had to do it, so it was time to
suck it up. I wasn't ready for the
cheering squad that would follow me every time I took her to the bathroom (to say I felt claustrophobic is an
understatement). But her siblings were
excited and wanted to celebrate with her, so I had to suck that up too…
most of the time;-) On about day 2 or 3
my husband was done! He didn't see her connecting the dots, and I must admit I was starting to question whether or not
she was really ready as well. But there
were moments of awesomeness… although few, there were moments, so I had to hold
on.
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