The Poop Prize

Potty training has commenced--whew! Jackson rarely has an accident anymore...well, at least of the liquid variety. Now if we could just get him to poo (regularly) in the potty. The little turd was resisting, ummm, literally.

After a week-and-a-half of potty training, we realized we had a lingering issue of the solid variety. We cajoled, we begged, we pleaded, we played stern, disappointed, and exasperated. I think we finally realized that we were up against a smart little stinker when our first-born began poo-ing in his undies and then exclaiming, "Aww, Jack!" with utter disappointment in his voice. He was mocking us.

We (the little turd's parents) are not backing down. We will see this through. As I write this, I am fortifying my resolve, can you tell? So, we came up with the idea of the Poop Prize. Rick and I took Jack (and Sam--who is a wonderful little pooper:)) to Toys 'R Us. We let Jack choose a prize that he would earn by pooping on the potty. It was a Matchbox cars garage--very cool. We brought it home and placed it (still in the box) on the back of the commode. He could see it, but he couldn't play with it until he successfully poo-ed in the potty. Well, it took him two whole days to win that darned prize, and--with much fanfare--we pulled it off the commode, and we quickly assembled the toy and played. We were all proud...until his next BM arrived...in his pants.

So, the Poop Prize afforded us a small success--hopefully, a stepping stone toward clean-as-a-whistle undies. Okay, I'll even settle for skidmarks; I have to be realistic--I am raising boys!