A few weeks back I was contemplating life and realizing I had some work to do. The main points: The Binky's and the potty.
We recently had three Binky's in circulation. At times, one in the mouth and one in each hand, you know, for balance and feng shui and all that. Then one disappeared. It is in my house somewhere, I'm 90% certain of that, and I am constantly on the lookout because I don't want it to make a surprise appearance and ruin my plan, but to date, I have not found it. That leaves two Binky's in play.
I was thinking, I should probably cut the plastic part off of one, leaving the handle, as a more experienced mom pointed out, it still gives them something to hold on to and can be less traumatic than a sudden disappearance. I kept thinking about it and thinking about it but hadn't done it when:
Friday night before bed, the little man peed on the potty (more on this to come, but not a nauseating blow by blow, I promise) which is awesome, then leaned over to admire his work. What happened next? As he shouted triumphantly I PEED, in plopped a Binky. Observing the perfect chance to off a Binky, I ducked my head around the corner and warned my husband- prepare for a total meltdown- admittedly with a glimmer in my eye, but how quickly that changed. I watched his excitement turn to utter, deep despair. You know that cry they do when they are mad, or frustrated or stub a toe? This was nothing like that. This was a full on, real pouring of emotional sadness, not something I witness every day from this one. MY BINKY! He wailed again and again, looking from me to the toilet and back again. The tears flowed. From both of us actually, it was so hard to watch. Big, tormented tears poured as his face turned beet red.
I held him tight, told him it was alright to be sad and explained that the Binky had to go away, it was broken and we couldn't get it back. My husband came in and softly told him a story of how he loved a toy robot but it was broken too and he was sad, but it was all alright. Amazingly, in a minute or two he calmed down and agreed to move on to book reading. Once or twice he interrupted story time to say we would have to go to the Binky store to buy a new one, searching our eyes for an affirmative agreement, but we just said well, we'll see and carried on and I am happy to report, it hasn't been brought up since. He talks about the robot that broke and how his Binky broke, but he hasn't asked for a replacement. I know getting rid of the last will be a super big bitch, but from three to one in a couple of weeks is a HUGE victory. HUGE.
My husband has been all about getting the potty training on, but still dragging my feet a little I received a temporary reprieve from the day care teachers (Thanks!). He has spent the last two weeks transitioning into his new 3-4 year old class room and they all felt it would be best to wait to make the switch to underoos when his move was official. (Which is Monday. Shit.)
If I were to ask him to sit on the potty at any moment he will refuse, however, he has been waking up in the middle of the night or at the crack of dawn (the 4:30 crack) and saying he needs to pee. Which is fabulous! But not! But what can I do? I can't discourage him from using it so I've been dressing him in shirt/pant pj combos, keeping it in his room at night and setting out fresh diaper supplies close at hand so for instance, at 12:30, when he woke me last night, I could plop him on there, change that diaper in the dark and get him back to bed in minutes. It was like a pit stop at a Nascar race. Well, I think it was, I don't know if he actually peed - it was dark and I was tired and I've never watched a Nascar race, but it was fast and efficient, that's all I'm saying.
The wrap up:
Binkys- Two down, one to go. Yes!
Potty- Right idea, wrong time, but right idea.
Ahhh. Progress.
