I give up people. I give freakin' up. I don't know why I was so excited to potty train, I thought it was going to be super fun! Well, it is not fun. Maintaining patience for that amount of time is exhausting. And doing loads of laundry is exhausting. And cleaning pee puddles up every 20 minutes is exhausting. And then seeing your little boy get super upset and frustrated is heart breaking.
After a long yesterday, and long morning today, finding out that Mark injured himself at the gym this morning was the final straw. He is going to be resting and on drugs for the next bit, which means I'm on my own. I have things scheduled in the evening and I can't leave my son with a babysitter while potty training, and I certainly can't leave him with a drugged up husband. So while Mark getting hurt is a great reason to stop, I also don't feel like Beckett is ready. 22 months felt early to me, but I wanted to give it a try because lots of people have success at that age. Well, we didn't even have a little success.
I really really wanted it to work. I felt like I was super prepared, and I feel like the method I was using will be awesome.... in a few months. Beckett couldn't have cared less about the dang toilet. That is, until nap time today, "toilet, toilet, pee pee, pee pee!" It was his newest nap time procrastination tactic, along with: asking for medicine, pretending his foot is stuck in the crib bars, saying he has "boogies" when he doesn't, and asking to look at the pictures hanging in the hallway. Nice try little man, nice try.