When Budsie was about 20 months old, he said he wanted a potty. Who am I to say no, I thought, even though I was pretty sure he didn’t know what he was asking for. We got one, he used it every so often, sometimes as a reading chair and occasionally as an actual toilet, and then lost interest around about 23 months. And I thought: meh.

Now. Any number of (lame-o) parents and (ridiculous) parenting books will tell you that I shouldn’t have let this slide, that I should have aggressively pursued this toilet training business as if my child’s life depended on it. If I let him have his toilet-training way, he’d become spoiled. Or dependent. Or whatever it is that kids become when they decide things for themselves. I was even told by one mother that if I let him “just give up,” he’d never train properly, (so presumably he’d be in diapers, what, forever??), AND he’d probably have a “give it up” attitude his whole life. In other words, by allowing my child to guide the process, I was setting him up for failure.

What a load of hooey.

A couple of weeks ago, Budsie suddenly realized that Elmo is potty-trained. I then mentioned that his cousin Frojo was too. This got the gears going. A few days ago, he found out that his little pal Mr. T had also begun using underwear. So he inquired about the underwear that sat in his sock drawer. And I said “Why don’t we give it a go on Monday? Monday can be super duper underwear day!” “YES!” he shouted. Again, I’m not sure he knew what he was agreeing to, but I can tell you this: we’re on day four, and he’s had only one accident today and two successful trips. Plus he’s super dedicated – if he doesn’t make it, he gets frustrated and then says “ne’ time in potty.”

Yep, those are the words of a quitter. Pfft.

At the end of the day, this might not be a good time for Budsie either. He might give up. He might decide he’s not ready. And when we have the second kidlet, Budsie might decide to regress a bit. Whatever. I feel like my job is just to encourage him and tell him to do what feels right. He won’t be in diapers when he’s 15. Heck, he probably won’t be in them when he’s 5 either. People worry too much about these things.

Right, off I go to have some more cake. I had TWO birthday cakes on my birthday and have been trying to pace myself. It’s been tough, but I’ve managed to keep it down to two slices of cake per day *pats self on back*.