Adventures in Potty Training- Part 1

I never thought the Munkin Man (aka my two year old) was going to ever be out of diapers.  I was convinced he wasn't going to be allowed to go to kindergarten because he was still going to be wearing them at age five.  Imagine, then, my surprise, when I found out that he had been holding it in during our entire six-hour car trip from Michigan to Joliet, Illinois, and then proceeded to pee in the toilet as soon as we entered our hotel room!  Mr. and I looked at each other, amazed, and at that point we knew that our precious little Munkin was going to be just fine for kindergarten.

I called up my bestie and toilet training veteran and told her about what happened in the hotel room.

"I think he's ready to start potty training,"  I told her.

"Ugh.  Really?  Please don't use that word," she replied.

Oh yeah.  Bestie doesn't like the "P" word (potty).

"Sorry.  Toilet training," I sighed.

"Great!  What's your plan?" was her reply.

Oh, shoot.  I didn't really think about having a plan.

Not having a clue as to how I should go about doing this, I spent hours and hours online Googling "How to Potty Train".  Most of the articles I found were interesting, yet none of them really appealed to me.  Instead, I decided that I was just going to strip the Munkin naked from his waist down, and vigilantly watch him, throwing him on his Froggy Potty as soon as I saw any hint of liquid come from him.  Bestie thought that was a good idea too, as did Mr., so that became The Plan.

Tuesday morning, Munkin woke me up by standing at the gate in his doorway and saying "Mommy, help-a ME! TWYing!", as he was attempting to climb over the gate.  As usual, I stumbled into his room (I am NOT a morning person), and took off his diaper.  This time, though, I didn't put a new one on.

"Change-a diaper, Mommy?", asked my little Munkin (I swear, he has an Italian accent, but there is not a drop of Italian in him!)

"Nope, buddy, today you're going to pee in the potty!", I chirped happily to him.

"No potty ev-airhhhh," he replied in his best French accent

Hm...this is going to be harder than I thought, I thought to myself.

The morning went on, and I kept staring at my son's groin like some kind of creep, sure that at any second he was going to start to pee and I could throw him on the potty (Sorry, Bestie.  I mean, pot).  Nothing happened.

Three hours later I was checking Facebook as any good mother with two young children should be doing, when all of a sudden Munkin exclaimed "Potty!" and ran over to the frog.  Without saying a word, he sat down on it, filled it, and jumped up with his hands in the air like a gymnast who's just stuck his landing. 

"I peed, Mommy!!" he trilled with a huge smile on his face.

"You peed, Munkin! I am so proud of you!" I beamed back to him.

"No, Mommy, so proud of YOU!"  he whispered back.

Yeah, I'll take credit for that one, buddy.  Thanks for making it easy on me!