It Never Rhines but It Pours by Erin Evans Page A

changing.
    “Diaper change!” I called after her and raced her to the changing table. “Oof, you’re such a big girl,” I complained, picking her up. “Don’t you think it’s time you wore big girl panties?”
    “No,” she said firmly.
    “Big girl panties have princesses on them,” I bribed.
    “No,” she said again. “No want big girl panties.”
    I sighed. She was stubborn. I’d read on the internet that children as young as eighteen months of age can be potty trained. I found that thought very exciting and had checked out a “How to Potty Train Your Child in One Day or Less” book from the library. The book said that by following some simple steps and throwing a “potty party” your little darling would be out of diapers in eight hours or less.
    I was thrilled. No more diapers! Megan had been very resistant to potty training and hadn’t started until she was three and a half. I had high hopes that, through positive peer pressure, Cassidy would be ready much sooner. I followed the instructions carefully. Plastic Doll that can pee - check. M&M’s for treats - check. Big girl underwear with favorite cartoon characters - check. Lots of juice - check. I was ready.
    I did everything by the book. We drank and drank and drank. I showed her how her little doll could drink a bottle and then pee on the toilet. We let the doll have a couple accidents. “Oh, no!” I would say in horror. “Dolly’s wet!” We drank some more juice. I sat Cassidy on the potty and waited, and waited, and waited. Nothing. The book said that the child would pee on the toilet, realize how much easier it was and how much they liked the attention and praise, and then be trained. Ha, I say.
    In a four hour time period, I’m pretty sure that Cassidy peed everywhere in the house but the toilet. During hour four I made her play out on the back porch so at least I wouldn’t have to clean the carpet anymore. She would sit on the toilet for an hour with no result, get up, and pee within seconds. I even tried carrying her to the toilet while she was peeing so that she would get the idea that peeing on the toilet was what we were going for. That was a disaster.
    Harvey watched the whole proceedings with troubled doggy eyes. When he peed on the floor, he got yelled at and thrown outside. Why is she allowed to pee on the floor? he seemed to say. I started to fear that he would think peeing on the floor was our new way of doing things. I gave up. I was tired, and hot, and frustrated, and Cassidy was not learning anything. Anything other than that toilets are hard, boring things to sit on and should be avoided at all cost. Just perfect.
    So it was still diapers. Lots and lots of diapers. I longed for the day when I didn’t have to change another diaper. That day was still a far ways off. My mother-in-law regaled me with stories of how Mark was potty trained at fourteen months. Charming. I’m sure it’s because she’s a better mother than I am. She even offered to take Megan, back in the day, and train her in one afternoon. Implying that my technique was lacking. My mom, on the other hand, assured me that “No one goes to college still wearing diapers.” She meant that, eventually, even the hardest to train child will learn how to use the toilet. I sometimes twisted it to mean that my kids would never go to college. They’d still be wearing diapers. Not that I could afford college after eighteen years of buying diapers for two children. Mark and I would be living in a cardboard box on the street. See! You can always make a worrisome situation worse in your mind!
    I was going to have to wait until Cassidy was ready on her own. She already had a complex about public restrooms (the loud flushing sound) the last thing I needed was for her to develop a complex about our home toilet. The good thing about waiting until age three to potty train, is that they become self sufficient much sooner. I have friends who have to take their two year old to