Our potty chronicles (final chapter)

Are you hearing the angelic chorus of hallelujahs? Okay, maybe they are just in my head.

Since my beloved son took his first breath, I have been dreading the day when he and I would face-off for potty training. The horror stories of boys being so difficult to train, and my total lack of knowledge on the topic of boys and potties had me scared.

Secretly, I had convinced myself he could go to his prom wearing a Pampers Cruiser if need be. But, every now and then, my little man surprises me, and low and behold ...

he's potty trained.

Actually, the job has been done for a month or so, we've just been getting over the hump of here-and-there accidents (read: when he's too busy eating to admit to needing to potty, and instead chooses to wet his pants so that he can continue shoving Oreos in his mouth), and solidifying the ability to get the number twos where they need to be.

He's done it!

Our only remaining hurdle is public restrooms. An unfortunate incident involving an automatic flushing toilet at Jungle Jim's one Saturday morning set us back several weeks on the training, and has instilled in him an absolute refusal to use public restrooms.

As such, this little gem is worth its weight in gold. Until now, it had been money well spent for the girls and their on-the-road emergencies, but recently it has become my new best friend, allowing us to leave the house AND keep Trace's pants dry. (A bonus to the whole situation is that the back of our Suburban is spotless in comparison to any public restroom. Yuck.)

Truth be told, Trace was the easiest to train. No, that wasn't a typo, I wrote EASIEST. That's not to say the journey was without noteworthy highlights like the entertainment center being used as a urinal, but sometimes the end justifies the means.

Perhaps it's the 1,567 potty trips made in our house on a daily basis that allowed him to catch on quickly; but, he required very little training. The challenge was more in getting him to the bathroom quickly enough once he realized he needed to go.

This final chapter in our potty chronicles has taught me two things:

1. Maybe boys aren't so hard to potty train;

2. And while the cuteness factor of girls' clothes beats that of boys' clothes hands down, in the underpants department, there's nothing cuter than a pair of 2T boxer briefs.