I am drained right now. Potty training sucks. And the only one trained around here is me. I am trained to watch the clock obsessively and put him on the potty to pee. And if I am busy at work and forget to do the post-nap pee pee like today, he pees all over the carpet at the Palace. He doesn't tell me he needs to go. He tells me when he is going. "I'm going pee pee!" He cried to the lobby full of customers. Actually there weren't any customers in the lobby at the time. I just though it made the sentence sound much better to say there were. There was only one grandmotherly volunteer who wisely kept her comments to herself and only smirked a little bit as I held the peeing child over the trash bin in my office. Sigh.
This evening we had more potty fun as I cajoled and bribed the child into squeezing out a miserly turd into the potty. I have resorted to bribing him with premium bath products. I have a small baggie of pink and white bath 'confetti; from a pampering gift set I got a while back. And after sitting in the bathroom with the boy on the potty complaining and getting nowhere for 10 minutes, I pulled out the baggie and desperately offered him some for his bath if only he would poop. And lo and behold his little face turned red as he went for it. And stunk up the bathroom with one measly turd.
I have also resorted to the time-honored sticker chart. One sticker per poop in the potty. When he fills the chart we go to the toy store for a new car. So after his little poop, I put him in the bath. Where after a few minutes in perfumed, high-end bath confetti water he produced a monumental bowel movement. Into the bath water. Sigh. Which made him think he could put another poop sticker on the chart.
He doesn't get the sticker chart. He gets that we go to the store when he fills the chart, but it made him really unhappy that he can't simply take the page of stickers and put them on the chart and off we go. He had an emotional breakdown because he couldn't add stickers and go to the store. Man. I am tired.
I have my MRI in the morning. My mom will be here to drive me and watch Jackson. hopefully the Ativan keeps me from flipping out from the feeling of being put in a coffin and the MRI shows a normal brain of above average intelligence. Or genius. A monumental brain of overwhelming genius.