As Jeremy and I were looking at our schedule in January, we realized that this last weekend really was the only weekend where we could devote the entire time to potty training Carter. While I am ecstatic about not having to buy diapers again for him, I wasn’t so sure how this was going to work since he adamantly opposed it every time we tried to prep him leading up to it.

      And then we bought Jelly Bellies. And chocolate. “Oh yeah I am not above bribing my children,” (to quote Denise on how she got Domenic potty trained).

      We decided that all diapers must go and he goes straight to underwear. We knew there would be accidents, it would be messy, but we were following a three day program and hoping for the best.

      First day lived up to all my expectations. For the first part of the day he pretty much soaked himself each time. But then by noon, he started getting it. We were loading him full of liquid and he still had a few messes, but he started telling us RIGHT before he had to go.

      He was dry through the night and second day was even better. He was starting to recognize the signs, only wet himself a TINY bit before stopping and waiting to get to the toilet. And he pooped on the toilet without an issue. Knowing he got a giant piece chocolate after that, that removed any sort of issue or fear there. THANK GOD.

      He woke up wet at 6:30 this morning, but today he had only three accidents. Granted I wasn’t loading him up with liquid like I was before, almost every time he would ask before he needed to go with enough time to get to the bathroom. And he made it through his nap without issue. While I know we need to keep asking and watching it, I am pretty sure he is now more or less potty trained! Here’s to hoping there isn’t ever a relapse.

      I thought about posting a photo of him here, you know, so I have ammo when he finally gets a girlfriend. But even I am not that mean, lol.

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      My boys just didn’t have the ability to tell they had to go to the bathroom soon enough and often just made it to the hallway when the accidents came. It was after they were three that they developed enough. My mom was agahast — she had cloth diapers, a wringer washer and no dryer. She said she had me potty trained as she held me over the toilet at four months of age. I told her she was just lucky that I was “regular” and she was well enough trained to figure out my schedule.

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