At two and a half, we switched Max to underwear and began potty-training. NINE months later, he had still never pooped in the potty. We tried everything. Bribery. Encouragement. Threats. Nonchalance.
True story, I once forced him into a battle of wills and after three days of holding it, I caved and he won. My dad even bought him a potty seat that played his beloved Thomas the Train music when used, and he told Grandpa to return it. I had visions of him going to kindergarten and returning home to poop in his pants.
True story, I once forced him into a battle of wills and after three days of holding it, I caved and he won. My dad even bought him a potty seat that played his beloved Thomas the Train music when used, and he told Grandpa to return it. I had visions of him going to kindergarten and returning home to poop in his pants.
One day, he had a particularly bad accident and was finally fairly upset by it. The next day, he miraculously came to me and told me he wanted to go. Within a few weeks, we suddenly realized he had not had an accident in an entire week. And just like that, at three years and four months, Max finally decided he was ready to be potty-trained.
One more to go...
