Potty training sucks

I'm beginning to think that my daughter is going to be wearing Pull-Ups under her prom dress.

She was doing quite well realizing she had to go and then sitting on her very own little potty, but she has regressed to doing it in her "couche" again. Which means she's also pooping in them. Which means I'm gagging on a regular basis. Which means her father and I are engaged in a daily battle of "I'm not doing it, I got the last one" and "Yeah. NO. I am NOT touching that."

Parenting books will tell me that it's laziness on our part, that we aren't encouraging her enough, following through, being consistent, but I believe it's because at the age of 2 and-a-half, she has figured out that she has power over her parents because neither one of us wants to still be changing a diaper at this stage. It's GROSS. And therein lies her control. Over us. The adults.

I suppose bribery is available because, you know, it works, which means it's time to stock up on Mummy's favourite vodka and Babybel cheese, which she is addicted to. (The cheese, the cheese, calm down Internet).

All I have to do is hold that little round ball of cheese over the toilet and threaten to flush, and I'm betting I can get her to do pretty much anything I want - including clean out the gutters, do my taxes or rub my feet.

One day, when she is older and constipated from all the congratulatory Babybel cheese, she'll thank us for forcing her to pee on a real toilet, in between downing shots of Maalox for her stomach cramps.

And Mummy will raise her glass and give thanks that it only took 3 years, 246 boxes of Pull-Ups and 522 bottles of vodka, amen.