Why are we scrapbooking about toilets?

So my good friend Courtney and I were hunting for fireworks stickers on the scrapbooking aisle at Hobby Lobby last week, when I came across multiple embellishment, quote rub-ons and sticker packages for potty-training. I have seen these before, but just dismissed them as something that I would never buy, but for some reason that day it really struck me as odd.

Who wants to make a commemorative page in their child's scrapbook about pee and poop?

I love my children, and I have successfully potty-trained one of them, and I can tell you with absolute certainty that it is not something that I will need to be reminded of for the rest of my life.

It was terrible.

I was crying, screaming, Mommy dearest for at least two months. I cleaned poop or pee off of every surface in my house at least twice. Poor Kate was worse off because on top of trying to figure out how NOT to poop or pee on herself, she had to live with me, the crazy lady.

I call this Phase One: Preparation. I talked to anyone and everyone who had ever potty-trained a child, I read what Dr. Sears and Dr. Spock had to say, and I bought books and cartoons for Kate with various creatures using the toilet. I bought a potty chair, a potty ring, a stool and flushable wipes. I bought Pull-Ups, double seat panties, plastic panties, and Disney Princesses panties. Target loved me.

Several of the mommies from Kate's gymnastics class were potty-training at the same time so that we could move our kids from Mommy and Me to Preschool class. We could all see who had been successful since last week because there was no more bunchy diaper or Pull-Up sticking out under their leotards. And one by one, they all started wearing panties.

EXCEPT KATE.

Even the kids who were younger than her were at least able to wear panties during the day. So I got all their tips and advice and put it to use. I call this Phase Two: Desperation.

Amy said to do the timer trick, set the timer for a certain amount of time and when it rings, take them to the toilet. Leave them there until they go or for five minutes, whichever comes first. If they go, set the timer for forty five minutes and repeat. If they don't set the timer for ten minutes and try again.

Kate would scream and turn red and spit and act like a demon if I made her sit there for five minutes. As soon as that timer went off, we both let out a huge sigh of relief, and off she would go. A few minutes later she would pee or poop on herself.

Laura said to put her on the potty and squat down in front of her and make her squeeze each of my ten fingers as hard as she could, hypothetically this would make her tighten all of her muscles and if there was anything in there, it would come out.

Kate would grab one finger and scream and spit and turn red and throw a fit.

Then there were the moms who said it took them one day and two accidents and their angel babies just got it. There were the daddies who took credit for potty-training their kids (HA!) while mom was seeing red, and the well meaning older generation whose advice was to try again later, maybe she's just not ready.

I was so afraid I had scarred my poor child for life with all of my ranting and begging and isolation in the downstairs half bath. I was worried that she would start kindergarten and still be wearing Pull-Ups. Mostly I was afraid that I was doing something wrong. There is so much guilt and fear associated with motherhood, I hope my daughters never realize how much power they have over me. I would call Tommy and vent my frustration on him, and feel like an absolute failure as a parent for most of the day. Then I would call my sister-in-law.

She is one of my best friends and biggest champions. I love her as a friend and as a sister-in-law. She and I are so different, but as parents we have a lot of similarities. More on her later. What she suggested turned it all around, and I call this next section Phase Three: Bribery or Bargaining with the Devil.