Two-year-old Twosies

BoyWonder did a twosie on the potty for the first time yesterday. (Wahoo!!! Wild cheers!! Raise the flag!! Start burning cars and looting and stuff!!!)

And although I should have known better, I, in my zealous glee over the event and my desperate desire to be done with diapers, offered BoyWonder his big boy underwear this morning. The cloth ones with the trucks.

I’m totally regretting that decision.

You see, my offspring seem to have a disturbingly skewed relationship with the twosies and the toilet. Onesies they catch onto pretty quickly. In fact, both of the girls were dry even at night long before they were trained with the twosies during the day. Granted, they were dry at night pretty early compared to most kids. But I would have gladly taken diapers at night over twosie accidents during the day.

Oh, those dang twosies. As you get into the two-year-old time period, the twosies take on a very adult quality. Smell and texture-wise, I mean. And my moppets seem to either really enjoy keeping them in their pants during their toddler years, or really disdain putting them in the commode where they belong. Either way, rushing into the training pants is not a wise choice around these parts.

If you’ve ever tried to clean fresh twosies out of cloth training pants, you understand. If you haven’t, God bless you and your sheltered, flowery, non-poop-stained existence.

So far, actually, BoyWonder has kept the pants clean with the exception of a teeny bit of wetness once this morning. So now he’s in the stripes instead of the trucks. But he refuses the diaper. I should be happy about this.

But instead, I’m just waiting for the inevitable twosie pants. The ones where you have to strip them down in the shower and try to find some disposable utensil to scrape the . . . um . . . “stuff” off the pants and the child, all the while trying to hold your lunch down.

I said it before, and I’ll said it again: Motherhood is not glamorous.

Maybe he’ll surprise me. Maybe he’ll be the one kid of mine who actually potty trains in a normal amount of time and with minimal twosie scrapage. Maybe.

Right now I have the timer on my phone set to go off every hour with his favorite “bell tower” ring so that I won’t forget to have him try frequently. But so far, he’s not been real keen on trying for twosies today. Onesies are going well. I’m so afraid of the twosie pants.

Blast those flippin’ twosies.

I’ll keep you posted. Cuz, you know, I’m sure you have nothing better to do than find out whether or not I had to scrape excrement off my youngest today.

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Annie writes about life, motherhood, world issues, beautiful places, and anything else that tickles her brain. On good days, she enjoys juggling life with her husband and homeschooling her children. On bad days, she binges on chocolate chips and dreams of traveling the world alone.

Comments 1

  1. We just emerged from this exact scenario. Lots of scrapage. But the last two weeks have been full of butterflies, flowers, leisurely trips to the grocery store, and CLEAN UNDERWEAR! It’s heaven, I tell you.

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