Showdown At The Poo-Poo Corral

If you’ve read this blog for any length of time you know that poop is a hot topic around here. And the fact that my 4 year old still doesn’t do it on the toilet is where I hang my head in shame. I mean, come on, I’ve potty trained 3 other kids before him. It’s not like I DON’T know how to do this. So the only conclusion I’ve come to is that I’m lazy…lazy and just too dang busy to camp out in the bathroom until he sees that his little butt will NOT fall down the hole.

For some strange reason, (Uh, maybe the fact that he’s nearing five and still wears his pull-up for #2) I decided enough was enough and on Monday I packed up his pull-ups while he wasn’t looking and informed him they were all gone.

It was showdown time at the poo-poo corral.

I was operating under the theory of “What goes in must come out.” I knew it was only a matter of time before he’d have to give in and perch on the potty.

But ooh, he can be a stubborn little cuss and for the last four days he’s complained of belly aches that have interrupted my precious nap time, and squeezed his little cheekies so tight that I was afraid he was going to implode. And I’ve spent at least 10 hours a day sitting on the bathroom floor, reading every book imaginable to him, trying to get him to relax enough for it to unknowingly slip right out.

And today, dear friends who probably could care less, the inevitable happened. The poop dance/butt squeeze could no longer hold the tide of poop back and in a mad dash for the potty; we made it just in time for the explosion.

And he didn’t fall in.

And I won!