I set the timer for ten minutes. We went to the bathroom, washed our hands and then Riley requested, no, make that demanded, his treat. I had a few somewhat hardened marshmallows left over from our last abandoned attempts at training. What kind of incentive was that? Not far from, "Sweetie, if you keep up the good work, I'll give you some dessicated meatloaf!"
“What would you like for your treat, Riley?” I asked.
Panic once again. John had to leave for work in 30 minutes. Yes, CVS was open. No, I wasn’t dressed. No, John could not get ready for work and take care of a potty-training two year old and an all-over-the- place 14 month old. So, I threw clothes on myself and Aria, got her in the stroller and ran to CVS, where two bags of M&Ms were $6. $#@% them for charging full price for one bag, thereby FORCING me to buy two.
Back at home, Riley was thrilled at the prospect of his reward, which I doled out in threes. Sure, I was motivating him with refined sugar crap, but wasn’t I redeeming myself with an educational component - making him identify the color of each piece of candy? Then I began worrying that he might be potty trained, but he'd either have teeth like the mountain people in Deliverance, or he’d be a child diabetic. Was giving him potty experience before starting Class #2 at his preschool worth these risks?
I am proud to say that today’s potty training was a success. Riley only wore a diaper during his nap. He wore Pull-Ups to our lunch outing and even tried unsuccessfully to use the pee-pee corner at the playground. He had two accidents, both number two related, which is a whole other ball of wax, no pun intended. After dinner he stayed dry for a half hour. Victory! On we would soldier to tomorrow.