No Can Doo

We're getting a little antsy these days my wife and I.  Our youngest is just a couple of clicks shy of 3 years old and there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel with regards to that whole potty training thing.  The little chica just refuses to have anything to do with the toilet these days, save an occasional laugh at me while I pee or the infrequent, yet, suprisingly no less dreaded exeriments in buoyancy with various and assundry play toys and/or kitchen utensils and cherished valuables.

At this point, she changes herself.  No...really.  She changes her own diaper.  Half the time she doesn't even need coaxing either.  If things get a little too wet or messy in there then - BAM! - she'll kick that one off and help herself to another fine incontinence protection trouser of her choosing.  And I mean she actually kicks them off.  She gets one leg out and whoop! there it goes in to the wild blue yonder with the other leg.  I can't tell you how many wet/dirty diapers we've found in the oddest locations - in her toybox, on top of the lamp, under her pillow, etc. Wherever they land, basically. They're easy to find, mind you.  Just follow the stench or, if need be, sic the dog on the more craftfully-hidden poopy ones since he considers them a delicacy of sorts (I have video proof) and will sniff them out on our behalf.

She's also all about getting some privacy for the grunt work.  Once she finds that she can no longer hold it, she'll dart off to the bedroom to slam the door so she can work it out, so to speak.  We always gently remind her that she can go on the toilet if she wants, but, she's batting 1000 with the "NO!" responses.  She'll have none of that nonsense!  What's scary is that she's up to the size 6 diapers now.  So if she dilly-dallies too long, we'll have to resort to Depends or, better yet, these.

I know, I know...all in due time.  It's eventually going to happen.  I mean, how many grown-ups do you know [under the age of 60] that still crap themselves more than occasionally?  A quick tally brings me to a total of, uh...let's see...ZERO self-shitters that I know.  So we shouldn't worry and we're not, honestly.  We're just "raising an eyebrow or two" right now kind of anxiously awaiting some progress.  In the meantime, I guess we'll just have to hunker down and dodge the flying diapers.  Which reminds me...

Honey, if you're reading this, there is a wet diaper behind the couch near the green end table by the window.