At first it was like a mirage shimmering in the distance. A house free of diapers. The expense, the stench, the battle, all gone. One morning about two weeks ago, my 21 month old son dragged the training toilet into the living room where his sister and I were watching an episode of Curious George, and said, "Poop!" Since I'm a fly by the seat of your pants kind of girl, I thought why not, took off his diaper and sat him down on the toilet. Of course, nothing happened but the little man sat there for the next twenty minutes watching George, trying his best, until finally he peed. I was amazed. He was amazed. His sister was amazed. We all did a dance, cheered wildly, and sang a song.
That was two weeks ago. This morning, after a four day streak of no accidents in underpants, he woke up with a dry diaper. He immediately asked for the toilet and his Aquaman underpants. He took a trip to the mall with his dad, played all day, had a nap, and still no accident. Then this evening, as he played on his new bean-bag chair with his sister, she announced, "I smell poop!" Figuring the streak of good fortune had been broken, I ran over to what I was sure to be a total disaster, to find exactly the opposite. My son had taken off his pants and used the training toilet (yes it is just sitting in the play room) all on his own!
The mirage is shimmering less and taking on true form. Now I can almost reach out and touch it: a diaper-free home.