Potty Training

Other than teething, I don't think there's anything I hate more than potty training. And I may hate PT'ing more than teething, but they don't happen at the same time so it's difficult to truly gauge my level of hatred for each.

As I navigate the ever-deeper waters of parenting, I may very well find something I despise more than teething AND potty training. These things just tend to escalate - otherwise no one would ever become parents. Imagine recovering from childbirth only to find your newborn sneaking out of the bassinet to go to a cast party dressed as a slutty Kardashian sister (note: all of them dress like hookers... this is where the feminist in me recoils, but being a feminist doesn't mean I have to condone silly, vapid people dressing like sexy halloween kittens in May). The human race would never survive.

Anyway. Griffin has a rash. Another rash. He is the rashy-est (rashiest? rashyist?) child I have ever birthed. Which, comparatively doesn't really mean much, BUT he's rather rashy for any child. So I guess that would have been a better way to start.

He's just very rashy.
(note: spell-check doesn't recognize that word. Spell-check was invented by the childless)

His skin has always been sensitive, and his rashes have gotten worse since he's been in disposables, but cloth isn't an option with our daycare and since he's almost 2 1/2, part of me is seriously considering potty training - especially since he asks to wear underwear (although he doesn't tell us when he has to go, only after and only sometimes).

Only I loathe potty training.

At this point it's almost an irrational loathing, like the one I have for pregnancy... because Penelope was actually rather easy to PT (took a few weeks, handful of accidents, night-trained in 2 months) and both my pregnancies were a breeze compared to what many (most) other women experience (no serious morning sickness, no cramping, very little heartburn, only one episode of sciatica pain, few stretchmarks, short labors). So one would think that with relatively positive experiences with both pregnancy and potty training, that I should be rather positive when it comes to both.

One would think that, and one would be wrong. Very, very wrong.

I honestly have no idea where my intense feelings regarding potty training come from. Maybe I've repressed memories from my childhood that are currently haunting me in adulthood (childhood trauma is also why I refuse to iron, hate blow drying my hair, and refuse to vacuum stairs. And by "trauma" I mean "stubbornness"). But I'm pretty sure my potty training was relatively uneventful. I mean, I'm assuming my parents would have made some comment about it if it had been horrific.

So I'm left to speculate about the origins of my fierce hatred for all thing potty training.

And I do SO enjoy speculating.

Although that will have to wait for another post, since I wanted to discuss Bubby.

So blog-world... if you had an almost 2 1/2 year old who asks to wear undies, doesn't tell you before he pees, gets horrible diaper rash every few months, and who has an older sister who potty trained at 3 - would you start serious potty training?