Tuesday, April 24, 2012

Will Pee for Soup.

Quinn is weeks shy of turning 2. In the last month she has loudly proclaimed 'POTTY' no less than 100 times and actually gone the the bathroom and successfully peed in the toilet 3 times so far. (Pretty far below the Mendoza line for you baseball fans)

I'm not one of those parents who thinks this borders on precocious behavior.

In fact, I'm amazed that her potty training started before she was, say, 14. Miller started the potty training process a few months before his 3rd birthday and now abuses it like Jay Z does to a Black AMEX card. And while I'm happy to not have to put diapers on him anymore his use of it has become a tool of psychological warfare that makes me understand the increasing number of frown wrinkles on my forehead.

No matter where we are, He will proclaim 'I HAVE TO GO POTTY!!" Usually the declaration happens in the car once everyone is strapped in and we're about to pull out of the driveway. Or when its guaranteed there isn't a bathroom within a few miles- I swear he has some sort of bizarro reverse GPS navigation system built into his bladder.

We were fairly diligent about his potty training as he was the first child. Now that he's so recently out of diapers, I haven't had a chance to recover quickly enough to jump back in and do the same work for Quinn.

I think she started the process earlier because she learns by example from mimicking everything Miller does. For potty training this has been beneficial I guess. For temper tantrums, hitting family members and general pissy behavior, not so much. I've learned to take the good with the bad.

She could give a crap about my armchair quarterback method during her latest conquest. 'YEAHHH QUINNY!!' I ridiculously squealed like a high school cheerleader yelled the first time her pee landed in the toilet bowl. (I thought those life moments should be met with a ridiculous level of parental positive reinforcement.)

It was not needed I soon found out. Instead, she gave me a look of icy indifference as if she had been doing this forever. I thought about reminding her about the dump she took during bath time the week before but thought better of it. I'll be the bigger person. I'm so pathetic, but back to pissing stories.

We were all now on heightened watch. Anytime 'POTTY' was screamed, My wife and I would drop everything and run with her to the bathroom, yank her pants and diaper off and plop her on the toilet. And wait. And stare. And bribe.

Usually the way to get to Quinn's heart is thru my lovely wife's purse. Mascara, lip gloss, lip balm, you name it- if it goes on your face and makes a mess, count Quinny in.

This was met with little success. Quinn knew she could sneak over anytime we weren't looking and get the prize without performing. In hindsight, we should have thought of more obvious alternative forms of bribery, but keep reading.

On the third successful attempt I was greeted with one of those ' AH-ha!' life moments that are so simple yet never cross the mind until it actually happens and you realize what an idiot you are.

After peeing in the potty Quinn looked up and proudly said, "Soup now, Daddy?'

If only I had known.

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