Potty Training Woes

In case you haven't figured it out yet, this post is devoted entirely to my gripes, successes, and failures as I attempt to potty train the child-who-refuses-to-sleep, Isabella. As I type she is eyeballing me from the couch where she is supposed to be settling down for her afternoon nap, although she has become expert in the fine art of pretending she is asleep whenever I actually turn my head in that direction. Tricky one, she is. We have been spending the past day and a half practically glued at the hip as I try to "pick up" on her "signals" (overt and non) that she has to use the bathroom. This is per some potty training literature that I picked up the other day, although I cannot yet testify as to its effectiveness. I pulled out my stockpile of potty training paraphernalia, and am trying to make heads or tails of what "method" I should be following, and it's all Greek to me, to be honest!

So far, we have met some success, although I should be up-front and admit that most of those were a result of me running her to the bathroom and plopping her naked booty onto the potty when I sensed she was on the verge of letting loose. Other than that, my washing machine and dryer have been in heavy rotation - not to mention the Pine-Sol, bleach, and bathtub, since Isabella has taken it upon herself to dump the contents of her potty bowl onto her head a couple of times. Not a pretty sight, I must say!

And, of course, like most people, I inevitably encounter that one person - who shall remain nameless - whose child is the exceptional Einstein of their generation. C'mon, you know what I'm talking about! When the other moms (like myself) are discussing how great it is that our children are starting to speak in sentences and finally managing to feed themselves without chucking their plates at our heads, that certain someone's child is sitting daintily in a chair and completing quadratic equations with one hand while decorating a cake with the other. And of course, was potty trained when they were one and a half, within a three-day period, with nary an accident. Yup, that's the person I end up running into while on a "happy, happy, joy, joy" high from the fact that Isabella actually peed in the potty without finishing on the floor. Way to go, self-esteem!

Don't mind me, I am just venting - I am sure she will get the hang of this eventually and maybe even before I sprout gray hairs. I am an open vessel for any advice you want to divvy out, so please feel free to let me have it. And since it looks like Isa has finally drifted off, I should probably try and get this laundry folded before she gets up again! Adios for now....