Potty training sucks.

When Kathleen was born, one of my greatest worries after SIDS, solids, and the Terrible Twos (which weren't that terrible, really) was potty training. I had no idea where to start. There is a glut of conflicting and sanctimonious advice out there ranging from starting them out as a new born to waiting until the switch clicks. Bribe with candy, don't bribe. Put them on the potty every three minutes, don't make a big deal of it. Let them run around for three days sans diaper, keep the diaper and go mainstream. It's boggling.

And it's the most frustrating thing in my life right now. I say this with the mess I deal with daily putting out fires at work and not being able to get any part of my job done. She is three years, three months, and three weeks old and could not care less whether her diaper is changed all day, messy or wet. How do you potty train that?

Let me relate to you our experiences to date. I put underwear under the diaper in hopes that the uncomfortable feeling would spur her to use the toilet or at least ask to be changed. I never thought I'd need to use diaper rash cream on a 3 year old. I put her in just underwear - something I swore I'd never do but desperate times, desperate measures - and told her it was her job to keep them dry like the big girl she is. I have a load of pee soaked towels and underwear soaking in the washer now. I bribed, ordered, negotiated, pleaded. I had two meltdowns in as many weeks (I wish I could say I was joking). The end result: five whole successful uses of the potty, all five of them because she just happened to be sitting on it at the time. I love the girl to bits, but I want to pound my head on the bathroom door.

I've come to one conclusion: potty training is just as horrible as I always feared it would be. They say no child will go to college in diapers. I say there's always a first.