Photo Credit: Jessica Lewis/Flickr Open/Getty Images
Saturday, 2 am
L wakes up and comes to get me. I check her for wet undies. She's dry as a bone.
Saturday, 3 am
Another wake-up. Still dry. Perhaps holding in the pee keeps waking her up?
Saturday, 5:30 am
Much earlier than usual, L decides it's time to get up for the day. I'm so tired, I can't even think. How the hell am I supposed to clean up excrement?
Saturday, 9:30 am
No sign of pee. It’s been 16 hours since the last one. I google "Urinary Tract Infection." Then I do a search for the world record in pee-holding (and can't find an answer). My concern over the state of L's bladder is on the rise.
Saturday, 11:30 am
Finally, a deluge. Thankfully, most (but definitely not all) of it ends up in the potty. I'm so relieved excited that I burn one of her most coveted prizes: a Winnie the Pooh puzzle. L is so jazzed that she repeats, "I made pee-pee," at least once a minute while she works.
Saturday, 1 pm
Random thought: If Jensen, the author of this potty program, had $1 for every time my wife and I said, "Remember, if you have to go pee-pee or poopy, you tell Mommy and Daddy," she would have cleared $100 by now.
Saturday, 1:30 pm
Five minutes of dancing and wriggling in the kitchen leads to another successful pee in the potty. I don't want to jinx anything, but it truly seems like she's starting to get the hang of this.
Saturday, 2 pm
It's so nice outside. Cloudless. 70 degrees. During any other weekend, L and I would be running around in the park near our house. Instead, we're sitting on the floor of my office, playing with binder clips, just waiting. I'm not trying to be negative. But this is becoming torturous.
Saturday, 3 pm
More dancing. More wriggling. With The Cat in the Hat I coax L back onto the potty. She squirms through most of the book. Finally, right before Thing 1 and Thing 2 take off, a turd arrives. Who cares if the thing is the size of a shumai? I'm stoked. Nikki is stoked. L is literally jumping for joy. Her reward: A Dora puzzle.
Saturday, 4:30 pm
Another turd. Clearly this was a fraternal twin to its predecessor. Outwardly, I'm cheering for L. Inside, however, I'm longing for her to make a tremendous poop so I can photograph it and text the picture to my guy friends.
Saturday, 6:15 pm
In the middle of dinner, L declares she has to pee and dashes for the bathroom. Within seconds of sitting, we hear a trickle. Buoyed by her ability to time it right, L leans over to marvel at the urine coming out of her vagina. This, of course, sends pee shooting all over my new sneakers, and all over the bathroom floor.
Saturday, 7:15 pm
In bed, after storytime, I tell L how proud of her I am. Her response: "Daddy, I love potties."
Read on for Day 3....