The Summer I did hard time... Potty time

When I look back on the summer of 2011, many memories will be of the hard time I spent in potty time -- "tile time" as my good friend Jill calls it.  Call it what you will, it's hard and it's not fun.  Don't get me wrong, I know it's time well spent; the last thing I want to be is the mom of triplets who go to college in diapers but really, since that's unlikely (both the diaper part and the ability to pay for college!), I can't help but lament the hours I've spent in bathrooms this summer. 

I've spent so much time in our bathrooms at home (no, we don't have three of them, only 1.5!) that I think there's now a dent in the "big potty" seats I've spent hours perched upon.  I've spent so much time in restaurant bathrooms, that I think I've lost a few pounds  -- admittedly, this is the potential upside to being held hostage in a public bathroom by three two-year tyrants waving their willies everywhere but IN the actual potty!  I've spent many a sunny afternoon in the bat-cave like bathrooms you're prone to find at pools and beaches; again, eager to find the bright side (in this case, literally) I suppose I should be grateful for less of those damaging rays and subsequent wrinkles.  I've also spent a fair amount of time in the bathroom at church which, on the one hand, gives new meaning to "praying to the porcelain God" but, hasn't done much for my spirituality... other than, of course, repeated prayers that Kevin, Declan and Cormac finally get the swing of it (for lack of a better term!) so we can put these potty-training days behind us.

Truthfully, it's getting old.  And I'm out of PullUps.  And I'm loathe to buy more.  My little guys really seem to be getting it.  Or so it seems until I find a turd on a chair (as I did during dinner one night this week) or sail across their bedroom on a pool of pee on the floor (as I did this evening).  One step forward, two steps back.  I suppose that's how it goes.  Try, try again.  As much as I want this phase to be behind me, I also have a keen appreciation for the fact that when it's gone, it's gone.  Much like the bottles and onesies and highchairs, diapers and pull-ups will soon be gone.  Already, my sweet babes look like big boys as their shorts sag behind them in the space the diapers once filled but "training pants" don't.  By the way, has anyone else experienced these training pants?  If not, don't bother -- if they worked, I wouldn't have experienced a Slip n' Slide of pee earlier tonight!

In any case, I know that this too shall pass. And when it does, I will be proud of my guys for figuring it out.  And I will be glad that my house no longer smells like a urinal. And I will be just a little sad about those saggy shorts for I know they represent the next phase and I'm not 100% convinced that I'm ready for my babies to become "big boys".