Guerilla warfare: Us vs. the diapers

So, this is what it’s come down to. All the books read, the potty treats proffered, the subtle peer pressure… no dice. The kid will not willingly use the potty. As noted in a previous post, it’s not because she’s not ready—it’s because she’s “too busy.” (My child to a T. So to speak.)

At any rate, desperate times, desperate measures, yadda yadda yadda. After much research (sort of) and a reasonable assessment of A’s temperament, I’ve decided that we’re going commando this weekend: no diapers, no pull-ups, just the cotton big-girl undies. I think (hope, pray, whatever) that after a few accidents make A realize how a) messy and b) time-consuming it is to have accidents, she’ll wise up and start telling us when she has to potty. Of course, A being A, the gods only know how this will actually pan out. I’ll keep you posted. Keep us in your thoughts.

One prospect that a friend mentioned, however, does bring a smile to my face every time I think of it: We let A pick out which big-girl undies she wanted and she chose two packs of Dora the Explorer underpants. Which means that Dora will, in all likelihood, get shit on this weekend. It’s a thought to warm the very cockles of my heart.