God and Guns

So I think we are finally almost done potty training! Praise the Lord!!!!!!

Who knew that it would be such a roller coaster. [Insert sigh of relief here].

And really, after over a year of trying, I can't take any credit for it. This little victory belongs to the Lord, and  there is no doubt in my mind that He had a hand in it.

You see, it all started before Aiden was born. Liam would announce to me when he was going to the bathroom in his diaper. I was super excited, because I thought to myself, "no more diapers!". But everyone told me to wait until after the birth of the new baby. Too many changes, they said, could cause regression. And I believed them (still do) and heeded their advice.

Moving along until after his birth, I would try every once in a while, but Liam no longer showed interest. And with our four month move to Florida, I figured it'd be the perfect opportunity. Wood floors everywhere, a warm climate (for running around in underwear), and so we packed a box of training pants, smaller potty seat and the baby bjorn in our limited car space for the trip down.

Well, it didn't go quite as I planned. First, that bathroom door stuck. Second, with Aiden crawling early and getting into everything, well you can imagine that I couldn't just leave the bjorn in the play area (I made that mistake only once), nor could I leave the bathroom door open, as his hands were magnetically attracted to the toilet water, no matter the discipline. And well, with the door shut, it was stuck enough that Liam couldn't budge it.

We still tried... and thus began a spring/summer/fall filled with all the tricks in the book. Pennies filling up a jar. Candy. Taking him to pick out his own toy at Target. Sticker charts. Treats. Getting a new bicycle. "Shooting" cheerios... etc etc. Every new advice someone gave me, and I tried it. I even planned on having my parents potty train him for me in Phoenix, to no avail. He was not interested and emphatically told me/them so. The days that he wanted to wear his training pants (few and far between), he would keep them dry. The days I forced him to... well, he would wet 6x in a couple of hours.

I was exasperated, and the encouragement of a few that "no one is still in diapers at 7 years old" didn't help.

And then came the day in Phoenix, when both of my boys had a bowel movement at the same time. And my mother and I were changing their diapers together, and Liam pointed out to me, "Mommy, when the baby comes out, you will have three boys in diapers!".

Three. Three. Three.

As excited as he was, I was on the exact opposite of the emotional spectrum. And I suddenly realized... I had to just "get er' done". And I had about 4 months to do so. And so I made it a mental goal to try to have him pretty much potty trained (besides naps/bedtime... we'll get to that hurdle later, I'm sure, as he does most his wetting at those times) by the end of February. With us serving a couple weeks after we got back from Phoenix, I decided it'd have to wait til after that, as I would be too busy unpacking (and cleaning squirrel messes), as well as cooking and baking to be able to give him my undivided attention. But that Monday was to be the day.

Until that Monday came. And I was exhausted from the previous week, and told myself I needed a couple days of recuperation. Good thing I hadn't told him, right?!

Well, during his nap/quiet time, he called out to me and told me he had to go to the bathroom. I opened his door to correct him and ask him if he needed his diaper changed, and he said, no, he wanted to go on the potty. And he did. A bowel movement. Something he told me he would never do. We were both a little shocked and stared at it. Mass partying and dancing ensued, as we called many a people so he could tell them his jubilant news. And he hasn't had that kind of messy diaper since (except once while he was sleeping Sunday afternoon). He really does believe me that "if you go on the potty, you won't get a rash". And he is frequently using the bathroom for all his needs. :) And except for one little accident, when he didn't quite make it on time, he has kept his underwear/training pants dry all week long.

Yep, told you it was a God thing. I seriously can't take any credit. Because even though I was mentally determined, I had physically given up and didn't even ask him if he wanted to use the bathroom anymore. And it's as if to say that God, as He always seems to do, when He saw me give up on trying everything on my own accord, rolled up His sleeves, rubbed His hands together and was like "now I'll show her how to potty train a child." And He did.

Although a gun did help.

You see, shortly after we returned, we had the invitation to go to a friend's house for a playdate. I told Liam, and he excitedly told me he was going to get to play with "guns". I shrugged it off, but there, he would show me the different guns the other children let him play with that morning. And he learned the word "nerf". Now we don't have any guns in our house, save for one his cousin Patrick gave him for his birthday (which my son loves), and if he talked about shooting up his brother, well I took it away. Because like I mentioned in a previous post, he was only allowed to shoot bunnies and bears (and the occasional squirrel or monster). But a couple days later, we were walking through Target, and the endcap had nerf guns all over it. He kept pointing them out and mentioning that when he was "big", his Daddy and him would play with those. I bought a cheap multipack and told him that when he was potty trained, he could have them. I wasn't gonna spend a lot on something I figured wouldn't work, even with his immediate comments that he wanted to use the bathroom. Sure enough, the rest of that evening, he wanted to use the bathroom whenever he saw them, but the next day he was back to normal, and I wasn't going to stress it as I was getting ready for church lunch. But let me tell you, about day 2 in our week of using the bathroom, he started mentioning it, and Saturday night while I was at a girl's night out with some church friends, Liam, Daddy and Aiden broke them out (we had to make a stipulation, as he said Aiden had to wait to be potty trained, but I didn't want my younger son to be a sitting duck with no defense! As it is, Aiden can't pull the trigger so just ran around the house squealing with delight).

So there you have it.

God and guns potty trained my son.

Not sure where that leads us in the whole gun realm of things. Daddy was against guns too, until he found out it was a multipack and they were going to have some "guy time". And since they've already lost 7 of the 9 bullets (how do you lose 7 bullets in 24hrs??), well, this week's goal has been to stay dry so they could have the bullet refill pack.

So, in our ever transitioning views of different kid toys...

 if you have boys and guns, what is your stance on this issue??