Potty training.

“Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.” ― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh

The quote above may be a little “on the nose” when discussing potty training, but there you go.

So this week we’ve started potty training Mia. I am happy to say we have it all figured out and she’s going on her own.

Ha! No. Just no. Let’s just say that it is quite interesting potty training a non-verbal child who may or may not have any idea what I’m asking her to do. I literally put her on the potty every 30-45 minutes, and if she goes, I jump up and down and give her high fives, hugs, fist bumps, and she pretty much looks at me like I’ve gone a little crazy. I walk her over to the sticker chart and she puts a sticker on it, which I’m pretty sure she believes is a completely separate activity.

So why do I bother? She’ll get there eventually, right? Why not wait until she’s three or four? I decided to do this right now because she is showing signs of readiness. I’m also doing it now because I was waiting for all the wrong reasons. Let’s just say that for all of my “no limits” talk, there are still times when I come from a place of “she can’t do it.”

We actually just got back from a two week road trip to Minnesota, South Dakota, and finally Colorado. It was a really great trip. The kids did surprisingly well in the car, in restaurants, and at activities.

One afternoon, we took the two kids for a walk around the lake that was near the condo where we were staying, and at the end of the walk, there was a park. Fynn, of course, ran off to find some friends, and we walked Mia to the toddler section. She played there for some time before she started making her way to the biggest slide on the playground.

I could feel myself getting a little anxious. She’s not quite three! She’s so small! She has low tone! She CAN’T do it! I could hear it all in my head. I could see her whipping down the slide, screaming in terror, and banging her little head on the slide. Panic. Thankfully, Nate was there and did the dutiful father thing and walked her to the top of the slide and let her go for it. Granted the first couple of times I sort of “caught her” until she slapped my hand away. Then, she did it all by herself. No blood, no screaming, no tears. Only happy giggles.

It occurred to me that maybe I was the one actually holding her back. She can do it. She really can.

Potty training. I decided that I can’t let my own anxiety of this not working get in the way of letting her try. Sure, she may not be ready, but I can’t determine that without giving it a try. As long as she’s happy and willing and I can keep my patience, why can’t we give it a go? The truth is that Mia is going to do it when she’s ready anyways, no matter how many times I take her there.

So here we go! Day three. Wish us luck!

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