Tales From The Potty

So, I hesitate to write about my son's potty training experiences in any great length here because one day he might read this and groan "Mom, why did you have to write such embarrassing personal drivel about me all over the Internet? Is nothing sacred."But the cold, hard truth it's that it's kind of too late. It's all out there: his tantrums and flailing and my angsty uncool love for him and also the fact that sometimes he makes me want to run far far away to a never never land and never to return. So why not potty training details? Everyone poops, after all.

I am completely ready for Jordan to be potty trained. The poop, it is big and grim, and he now knows how to answer the phone, he can count to ten, he knows his A,B,C's, he tells me when he doesn't like the taste of a particular food, and when it's snowing out and we're driving in the car he bellows to "beee careful momma" -- so really, he is wise enough to know when he's about to poop. But it's not happening. He will sometimes sit on the potty, after I've bribed him to, note I'm also sitting beside him with a book in my hand reading it for the 53928468 time and after he lets a few wafts of gas escape (I know, TMI, but you know, this is a parenting blog) he asks for a treat and flushes the toilet. He will almost always pee on the potty, or sprays urine all over the potty as many toddlers do in the early days of becoming a semi-civilized adult (I'll note that many men never do seem to get the hang of aiming in the right hole). (Uh, so to speak.) I know that three is an average-ish age for boys, but I am ready, I am willing, I want to fasttrack this thing. So hit me with your best advice -- and if your kid was potty trained by 9 months, you can just sit on the sidelines for now.