So my 2.5 year old son has been potty trained for quite some time now. The occasional accident seeps in here and there, but for the most part, this kid has been a Pull-Up free, Spiderman/Buzz Lightyear/Lightening McQueen big boy underwear phenomenon.
He made it almost too easy. He wanted to use the potty just like his big sister...actually, he was far better at it than she was. Even over night was going tremendously well. Never wet his bed, wearing big boy underwear for 2 months all night with no issues...until a few nights ago. Total regression (IN MY DAMN BED) on that one. Oh well, sheets can be cleaned, mattresses decontaminated and Pull-Ups reapplied while sleeping. He asks each night now why he needs to wear them, but thankfully doesn't seem to be worried about it.
His game? EVERY time we set foot in the grocery store, he says he's got to go peeeeee. We kneel down to his level and have a heart to heart..."Do you really have to pee, or do you just want to go upstairs?". He swears he really needs to go. We, of course know better...but, when you're potty training a kid, you've got to listen when they say they need to go right?
So, thankfully today it was BEFORE I loaded up the cart and stood in line waiting to pay for the groceries (which is the usual case). Up we went, big sister in tow. She used the potty with great success. He however, sat there goofing around and whining that it wouldn't come out. I try to reason with him. Tell him that it's now or never, I'm NOT coming back up those stairs. I suggest trying the potty next door as it's a bit lower to the ground. Fine...next door we go. Nope, same devlish grin on his face. He says he just can't go and will wait until we get home. Ugh.
Fine, a-shopping we will go. Cart full, groceries paid for and packed up in the dreaded 5 cent plastic bags as I hadn't really planned on going shopping on the way home. Head back outside, find the car just where we left it, struggle to get 2 children out of the shopping cart (quite comical to watch a 7 month pregnant belleh deal with that I'm sure)...then wedge the 5 over sized scandalous plastic bags filled with gluten free pizza crusts, various fruits and cotton candy ice cream, into random spots between, behind and inside of the collapsed Joovy Caboose in the trunk.
Leave the parking lot..."Mommyyyyyy, I have to peeeeeee" comes from directly behind the driver's seat and with a quick glance in the mirror, I can see 2 little legs wiggling. Ugh number 2. I can see that he really does have to go, but really? What's a mother to do? Pull over to the non-existent shoulder on the road and let him pee on the grass? Nope. I visualize my drive home and what's on the road ahead.
Never thought I'd say this, but today, Taco Bell and KFC were my friends. Phew crisis averted...ice cream softened, but I'd take that over having to disassemble a car seat for a good old Friday night wash n' dry any day.
By the time we get home and I get everything and everyone unloaded, I hear those cursed words again. Seriously dude??? I have a 15" human practicing ancient martial arts on my bladder 24/7 and YOU have to pee? Again? Sure did. Like a trucker.
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