Potty on! When crap is good.

I'll admit I had lots of excuses for putting off potty training with Boss. None of them were any good, mind you, except maybe one: His poop is like a mud puddle. Mushy, wet, messy, and a lovely shade of UPS brown. Would you want that splatting all over the rug? No thanks!

Truthfully, though, I guess it was fear that kept me from loading up on training pants, carpet cleaner and stickers. Not fear of poop-smeared walls and furniture, but fear of the unknown.

What I did know was:

1. You watch for the readiness signs, like developmental maturity (check), dry diapers for a few hours at a time (check), and interest in using the hopper (check). Heck, Boss outright asked to use the potty a month ago when we were vacationing with friends and their boys, but my chicken-self pretended it was a ploy to avoid bedtime. Sigh.
2. You buy the gear—a potty or seat attachment, the treats, the big-boy pants/pull-ups.
3. Well, 3 is where I got stuck. Now what? There was no universal method of learning to pee and poop, and I didn't know what direction to take with all the options out there. So I circled back to nowhere over and over.

Finally, I realized we were getting dangerously close to starting preschool, where potty proficiency is a must. Plus, I was feeling like a doofus for announcing to friends and family over and over that I was diving in, only to take no action. So Hubbo and I got serious. He had read about—and liked—the Boot Camp approach in which you train your tot in one day or weekend. I responded with a “Pfffffft,” a loud snort and a dismissive hair flip. But I had no ideas of my own to offer. How was I supposed to know which strategy was best?! I just wanted a detailed list of what to do, preferably in bullet points—and it didn't exist!

Eventually, I did what my cheap self didn't want to do: I bought a book. It at least narrowed things down to two choices: the Boot Camp plan and going at it slow and steady. With Boss's third birthday recently behind us, and him being (possibly more than) ready, I was starting to like the crazy camp idea.

As part of our prep, we watched videos with Boss, which he viewed with hands over his eyes—not exactly fueling our confidence. We also reintroduced his potty book, dusted of his Elmo toilet that we bought about a year ago, got a Baby Alive doll that makes turds and tinklies, crafted a sticker chart, and bought Cars books for big victories like pooping. The night before the Big Weekend, we reviewed key points, gave Boss a pep talk, drank some wine and hit the hay.

The next day, Hubbo and I got up, ignored the elephant in the room that was our plan, and made pancakes instead. We confessed that the Boot Camp method seemed … a little out of our reach, being that Boss had never even pulled his pants down by himself. We lowered our goals and decided to still try it but with a slightly relaxed outlook. Instead of Boot Camp, we went a little more cushy—maybe a Sandal Camp or Bootie Hike. We'd allow the TV and radio on a few times during the day, for instance, and bend other rules as needed. We also didn't bank on success by Sunday, but rather a strong foundation of toileting to hopefully get us on a fast track.

A little later, Baby Alive gave her demo, and soon we commenced with big boy pants, Raisinets on the ready, a Cars and Thomas the Tank Engine sticker stash, and sitting (on the pot) and waiting. We did the Boot method on Saturday and Sunday, and on Monday we switched to pull-ups and semi-regular (vs. constant) reminders to use the potty. Here's how it went down:

Day 1: Peeing in the pot while Boss was in enforced-sit mode.

Day 2: More of the above, plus pulling his pants up and down on his own.

Day 3: Peeing without prompting. A poop trail on the floor.

Day 4. A poop without prompting! Another poop on the floor.

Day 5: More peeing without prompting, no poop.

Day 6: TBA

We're thrilled with the progress, but have also learned that human feces is much more difficult to scrub off carpeting than cat doodie. Which reminds me: Training pants leak!!! At least they did for Boss and his mud pies.

We also realized that Boss gets really jazzed with positive feedback, and the best motivator for him seems to be clapping, jumping up and down, and yelling “Hip, hip, hooray!” Even Stinker gets into it and screeches his happy face off to cheer on big brother. The stickers, books and treats help, too, but it's great to see how much he thrives on our praise.

While I still have fears about what's next, like running errands with a tot in training and figuring out when to do the stand-up routine (look out Cheerios!), I'm gaining confidence in … well, going with the flow. I still wouldn't mind bullet points. But each success for Boss feels like one for me, too.

Raisinet? Don't mind if I do.