Oh, poop

It's potty training time! And what a craptastic, kick-in-the-crotch, sucktacular time it is.

Part 1 of potty training actually went quite well. Elise pretty much learned to pee in the potty in about a day. She's been ready for awhile, but because of her diabetes (and sometimes high blood sugars), it was easier to keep her in diapers.

But after our trip to Vancouver, I decided the diapers needed to go. I was ecstatic at how quickly and happily she took to going on the potty. Until, that is, it came time to drop some kids off at the pool.

Since she's wearing underwear, and knows it's so not cool to drop a load in your pants, she started bringing me diapers and telling me that she needs to go poop. And when I tell her excitedly that she can do it on the potty, she breaks out into an all-out wail.

Seriously, you'd think I had told her that Thomas the Train had run over Belle, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, and Cinderella; and as a punishment had been taken apart and sold to the scrap yard.

We've tried begging, pleading, bribes, veiled and not-so-veiled threats, cash, prizes, different potty seats and a seat that fits right on the toilet. I've tried letting her run around naked, which just led to her trying to escape out our front door naked yelling, "I want to be naked outside!"

I've tried refusing to put on her diaper, but one constipated woman in this house is enough (in case you weren't aware, pregnancy is very constipating).

Nothing works with her. Nothing. The child just will not poop on the potty. She told me that the poo-poo is happy in the diaper.

I talked to her doc today, and she told me to give it a rest for about a month. So no more potty talk for awhile. For a laugh I thought I'd include one of the funniest songs ever from the TV show Scrubs. Because everything DOES come down to poo.