I’m a mom to two lovable, amazing, and incredibly stubborn boys, and when I think about potty-training them, the first word that comes to mind is “survivor.” Persuading my pig-headed firstborn son to pee and poop in a toilet and reliving the trauma all over again two years later with his equally unyielding younger brother didn’t break me, but I didn’t exactly come away unscathed either.
I cope with the enduring memory of those days on the bathroom battlefield by baring my scars to parents of toddlers who don’t yet fully comprehend the shit show they’re getting themselves into when they naively find themselves with a dozen diapers left and a long weekend ahead of them.
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