I still hate potty training.
I know, big surprise there.
Last weekend was about the longest 72 hours of my life.
After the first day, I handed her over to her father and left the house.
I went out to eat dinner by myself so I could calm down.
The second day, there was a big accident right after I'd asked her to go to the potty.
It was fighting tooth and nail.
Sunday at church, we took her to the potty seven times and she barely squeezed out a drop.
As soon as we got home, she took off her dress and peed right in the middle of the floor.
There were two more accidents after that.
Monday morning, I woke up at 4 am mid-anxiety attack because I didn't want to get up and have to face another day of cleaning up urine.
I told everyone I was going to put her back in diapers as soon as we got home from the gym.
I told her that, too.
And that was pretty much all it took.
Since that time, we've had two near accidents, but she caught herself after just a little bit and ran for the potty...on her own.
I think I've only asked her a handful of times if she needs to potty in the past two days.
Of course, she's in a pull up for naps and nighttime, because the times where she's asleep are still too valuable to me for her to be waking up and needing to go potty and not going back to sleep.
She continues to show her undies to pretty much everyone we meet and luckily, most people think it's cute instead of creepy.