I haven't ever seen Game of Thrones, so I'm going to have to end my analogy here, but here are some of my favorite moments from the last two weeks of potty training. (Yes TWO WEEKS. And this is just two weeks in our long, long journey that started back in January. Do you think my book, called, "How to Potty Train Your Defiant Child in 9 Soul-Sucking MONTHS," will be successful?)
Day 1: I decide that school is in session, structure is abounding (kind of), and I am not buying anymore diapers. PERIOD. She wakes up dry every morning. She's gone on the potty before. N's will is strong, but I am pretty sure that mine is stronger. She only has two years of practicing mule-headedness; I have 35 years under my belt--in fact, for me it's not mule-headedness, it's mule-headedfinesse. And I will not be defeated.
I gear up with reward M&Ms. "We're wearing underwear and we're keeping it dry," I say. "Every time you go potty, I'll give you some M&Ms." Four hours later and four loads of laundry later, I decide that maybe I will buy some diapers again. BUT I AM NOT GIVING UP. Later that day, my beautiful, angelic, fabulous daughter pees on the floor of the sports equipment store. I pretend that I am not embarrassed and/or angry. After all, I did set myself up for failure by leaving the house. Everyone knows that while you're potty-training you shouldn't leave the house. EVER.
Day 3: After two days of ritually following these steps: 1. Sit her on the potty 2. Read her some books 3. Look in the empty potty 4. Sigh 5. Pull up her pants 5. Change said pull-up two minutes later, I lock N in the bathroom with myself and say, "We are not leaving until you put some pee in the potty." She has consumed a juice box 30 minutes earlier, and I know she needs to go. One hour later, I am still sitting in the bathroom. Finally, she pees. Hallelujah! She hands out M&Ms to the whole family. We celebrate!
Day 7: Norah has yet to poop in the potty. Today she is in the garage with me and says, "I'm pooping." I rush her to the potty and she finishes in the potty. GROSS. I have lost all sense of disgust, though. I'm counting this as her first poop in the potty. She gets 10 M&Ms.
Day 10: I eat all the M&Ms in a moment of self-pity. We have gone through six large bags of M&Ms.
Day 11: We are down to the last two out of our package of 24 Pull-Ups, but she is pretty successfully going in the potty. She is "mommy-trained." She will pee in the potty if I set her on it, but she has only told me twice ever that she needs to use the potty. I put her in underwear anyway. I can do this. She's sitting on the front steps of my sister-in-law's house, eating an ice cream cone. She says matter-of-factly, "I'm peeing," as a stream of pee trickles down the steps. ARGHHHH!
That night, I eat all the M&Ms in a ritual of self-pity.
Day 13: I lose my temper when N pees on the floor of the bathroom at the Church History Museum while I am breaking up a fight that involves biting because there were only two stools and there were three children. (Makes sense to me. I would totally bite someone if there was a stool shortage. "Brush Your Teeth So They Will Be Strong Enough To Bite People" is one of our family mottos.)
I clean up the floor while my four children howl like wolves with their feet cut off in the small "powder room" portion of the bathroom. I come out to find a woman trying to have a phone conversation. She finally leaves in disgust. So sorry that the bathroom didn't work out as your private phone booth. So sorry.
Day 14: She pees the bed twice. While N is not successfully potty-trained, I am successfully addicted to M&Ms.