It is time. I cannot justify spending another penny on them and if I were to add up every cent I have spent on them over TEN years, I could have a closet full of Banana Republic clothes AND fabulous shoes to match.
Alas, the time has come.
Joshua has started full blown potty training.
My mother in law, God bless her heart, helped him get a jump start last week while I was still at work. And she used our dearly departed Granny's secret weapon for potty training: leaving a slight trickle of water going on the faucet and slightly closing the door. And for all you naysayers , the woman raised FIVE children in poverty and using cloth diapers (YECH!), with an incredible sense of humor. For you environmentalists, what's a little water running when I am surely responsible for at least one landfill full of disgusting, non-biodegradable diapers.
TEN years, folks.
The running water is a drop in the bucket, literally.
So, Joshua performed admirably with Pull Ups while Grandma was in the house. When Grandma evacuated the premises on Friday afternoon, Saturday was a no go.
But Sunday began a new week.
And new awareness.
I decided to be bold and trade the Pull Ups ('cause dagnabit, those suckers are EXPENSIVE, too!) and dressed Joshua in big boy briefs. And bribed with M&M's. And put him on the potty every hour, on the hour.
And he rose to the occasion.
He even pooped on the potty. Twice!
And today was no different. When I got back from my 5:30 a.m. spinning class (yes, I am well aware that I am on summer break, however, my waistline needs my immediate attention), I got a desperately needed shower. And then, we went potty.
And he did.
He went to take his brothers to Vacation Bible School in big boy briefs with no accidents. We went to run an errand right after, no accidents. In fact, he spent the better part of today in briefs. When we went out to get Daddy's Father's Day present, he wore a Pull Up. And after a two hour trip and a short nap, the rocket was still there.
The rocket was still there in transferring him from the stroller to the car. He went potty again. And then, he said the words I had been waiting to hear.
"Mama, I need to poop in the potty."
Music to my ears, I tell you.
He sat. He pooped. Mama did a crazy version of the potty dance and song.
And Mama doled out M&M's.
M&M's for keeping the rocket on the Pull Up. For going potty. For pooping in the potty.
And my little boy?
He smiled his delicious smile.
And taught me once again to never underestimate him.
And somewhere, on a big, fluffy cloud, Granny is smiling down at us. Grateful she no longer has to potty train anyone.