Last week I tried potty-training my 2.5 year old son.
Some of you are already snickering because you know all the drama that goes into that one sentence. My daughter was potty trained in 2 days at the age of 24 months. My son spent an entire week in Buzz Lightyear underwear and we did not see one peepee-in-the-potty.
By day 5 I was reaching my limit.
I had cleaned potty off the floor too many times to count, I had changed my son’s clothes so often that the only thing he had to wear was mismatched too little pajamas and I hadn’t left the house in days.
The final straw was when my daughter began to offer her professional potty training experience in the middle of me wiping up potty, cooking dinner, and changing a soaking wet little boy.
I turned around and yelled at her. Harshly. Rudely.