The Potty Training Diaries

I feel really sentimental about the little fixtures and routines that have become part of our new, diaper-free life so I decided to document the process. When I have my second kid, I don't want to have forgotten all the details. I also want Greyson to remember what champion he was in this process.

Greyson now pees directly in the toilet. However, every once in a while he'll ask to go back to his "blue and white potty" so I've left it in the corner of our living room. It is still set up with my "supply box" next to it containing a roll of paper towels, a toilet roll, spray cleaner and baby wipes. Anything to make for swift and easy cleanup.

The infamous box of treats. Knowing how much Greyson loves chocolate and colors, I thought M&Ms would be the perfect reward for him when he started potty training. Funny enough, we discovered that he does not like them as much as he does jelly beans. I've found that Greyson likes chewy things. He'll take that texture over a hard shell any day, even if it involves chocolate. We have since moved on to Gerber Graduates fruit gummies, a relatively more nutritious equivalent.

Public restrooms are still a touch and go situation. It really depends on the bathroom. The automatic flushes and loud hand dryers make him really anxious. Sometimes he'll try and nothing will come, other times, he'll have none of it and just bolt for the door saying, "No! No pee pee!" Hence, my car potty. As many travel potties as there are on the market, I just couldn't justify yet another expensive purchase. Thankfully, I had all these extra hand-me-down potties from my dear friend, Alex, so I just set up a potty station in the trunk of our car. It consists of a potty on a waterproof changing pad, with another "supply box" next to it containing paper towels, toilet paper, garbage bags and a large bottle of water. When he pees in his car potty, we dump the pee out in a nearby bush or curb (ah, the joys of city living) and rinse with water. We still use this potty often because even though Greyson is doing better about public restrooms now, I'm not. I'd much rather he go in the trunk of our car, than get his hands all over a filthy public bathroom. My name is Sonia, and I am a germaphobe.

It is extremely surreal for me to see Greyson's underwear mixed in with our laundry. I remember when I first got married, and I started doing Roque's laundry, it felt so profoundly significant to be washing another person's underwear. It represented a new presence in my life that was intimate and visceral. I have changed thousands of diapers since Greyson was born, but there is something about washing his underwear that makes this newer person in my life, more real somehow. It's almost as if by contributing underpants to the laundry load, he has been officiated as a member of this household. When I was pregnant, my favorite thing to do was to wash all the hand-me-downs my sister gave me, and then painstakingly fold those tiny little onesies into organized piles. It brought me immeasurable wonder. Today, my favorite sight is seeing a pile of Greyson's underwear sitting on top of our laundry. It brings me immeasurable joy.