It has been a while since I've been on here. Today being the first official day of Charley's potty training - I can think of no better day to start blogging again. Just in case I am ever able to block this day from my mind (though I really doubt it) I thought I would preserve my thoughts at this time, though my sanity is hanging on by a tissue strand.

First of, this is the most trying thing I have done thus far as a parent mostly because there is absolutely no true standard by which to follow. Of all the parenting advice out there, potty training seems to come with the least amount of sure-fire, fool proof plans. I believe I could get better, more certain tips on how to raise my child as a perfect Christian; thereby getting all the denominations of the world to agree long before I could get mothers and experts to agree on how I can efficiently train my child to use the toilet. 2 years or 3 years old? Pull-ups or panties? Stickers or candy? Potty chair or toilet? Everyone has their own way - and so help me if I meet one more person that trained their kid in just one day - you are lying and I don't believe you. This includes my own mother, who swears I did trained myself and at the age of one. If my mom is telling the truth, we can rule out genetics as having any stake in this battle.

I chose to go semi-cold turkey with the diapers. I have removed all diapers and Pull-ups unless it is bed time. Then every 25 minutes a bell rings and we go trotting to the toilet. There she sits with me by her side. We talk and sing, I paint toe nails, we look at flashcards, and the laptop even makes one or two visits for some inspirational toilet appropriate youtube videos. After several, long minutes of waiting to hear a tinkle or a plop - nothing. I get nothing. No-thing.

Then 3-5 minutes later, with her dry panties on (or nothing at all) a surprisingly large puddle forms in the floor.

(Let me interject here, upon seeing how much pee comes out of her body furthers how impressed I am with disposable diapers - they soak up all that and she is rarely wet? If Pampers and NASA ever combined forces...)

As she shyly steps away from it with little wet footprints, I say for the 1000th time, "Charley, pee goes in the potty." And she replies by pointing to some random object in the room and naming it, "Cheese."

"Good, glad we are on the same page, kid." We clean up the mess - something she enjoys a little too much.

I repeat this until 6 pm. This is when I commit the cardinal sin of a mommy - I meet two friends for dinner and leave Gary home to carry out the Potty Plan. I was very nervous and thought about canceling the outing when the bell rang for her to go and from his recliner Gary turned to Charley and said, "Charley, it is time to sit on the potty," expecting her to drop everything and obediently report to the toilet. Wow, I wish I had thought of that.

Gary eventually got the concept (after I compassionately and sweetly reminded him of our 'plan') and I left not knowing what was going to happen while I was out. Truly I didn't care, I was glad to get away from the ringing bell and bathroom. I later received a text message: "so far she has peed through two panties and tried to pee standing up...oh and she can climb on her table and into the crib...and OUT of it..geez." I smiled, closed my phone, reached out for another breadstick and proudly imagined my little naked banshee. At least she is consistent and I would be lying if I did not admit that it would have infuriated me had Charley peed in the toilet for Gary and not me! Judge all you want, but you'd think the same.

I came home to a daughter in Pull-ups and a slightly rattled husband snuggled in the bed eating waffles and watching iCarly. A tableau that doesn't exactly scream "Parents of the Year," but it is still very sweet. I made one last attempt to get her to pee in the potty before bed, but after spending 15 minutes on the toilet and even resorting to dipping her hands in hot/cold water slumber-party style I ended the day with no pee in the potty, an empty tube of Lysol wipes, a destroyed bathroom, more pee soaked laundry, and a feeling World Cup-sized defeat.

Meanwhile, Charley proudly put her Pull-up back on for the night, asked for a book and happily sang her ABC's.

So there it is - my first day of potty training. On paper it comes across humorous and not quite as exhausting (or wet), but to be sure it is a day that ranks with my other parenting firsts. I am frustrated and she is unfazed, but we go to bed and try again tomorrow.

I guess it is now more appropriate than ever we just put our big girl panties on and deal with it.