Rost has been ready to potty train for a solid six months—but I wasn’t. Mentally, I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. I knew we had our first big road trip coming up, and diapers felt like the easier route for travel. So I put it off. My goal was to tackle it over the summer, but somehow summer slipped by in a blur. Suddenly, we were counting down the days to a cross-country flight for a cousin’s wedding, and I realized we’d likely return to cold Montana mornings and bundling up for fall. So, ready or not, it was time. I cleared my schedule, put down my phone, and committed. Rost and I were going all in—however long it took.
Day One: Birthday suit mode.
Rost loved being naked. We spent most of the day outside to protect both my floors and what was left of my sanity. Not a single accident. I started to think this might actually be easier than I expected.
Day Two: Underwear trials.
Since day one went so smoothly, I figured we’d try underwear. Between 7 a.m. and 11 a.m., we went through a pair every 20 minutes. I cried. Genuinely wondered if, at two and a half, Rost was just too little to really get it. But by 1 p.m.—breakthrough. From then until bedtime, just one more change. Hope was restored.
Day Three and beyond:
Less than a week into our potty training journey, we boarded a plane (yes, terrifying). But Rost handled it like a pro. He hasn’t had a single accident since day two—except once, when I couldn’t pull over in time. Since then, we’ve had the occasional slip-up (to be expected), but they’re so rare. I truly couldn’t be prouder of this determined little dude.
