The Pee House

Yes, you read that title correctly. I now live in a pee house. As in pee-pee house. Ms. Erika, Sarah's behavior therapist is determined that Sarah is ready to be potty trained. And I am determined that this takes too much stinkin' effort. I have been held hostage within the confines of my home for the last 4 days. AND I AM GOING C-R-A-Z-Y. As in maybe I need to up the one a day dosage of lexapro to maybe two, three, or four. We have done quick little outings to Tino's baseball game, to church, to the gym, etc. But my blood pressure rises (probably off the charts) and I am in a constant state of anxiety and can't wait to rush back home. To the pee-pee house. My kid refuses to go to the bathroom in public places, which is a totally good thing. She knows how to hold it for long periods of time (between 5 and 7 hours). But the second we get home all hell breaks loose. She will sit on the toilet and then jump off immediately. Then about 5 minutes later she has an accident. I have been mopping floors, sanitizing where bodily fluids have spilled, and doing laundry like there's no tomorrow. I was bathing Sarah after every accident, but Ms. Erika told me that is sending the wrong message and it was rewarding her accidents with quality/positive bath time with mami. So now I'm supposed to hand Sarah a wipe, have her clean herself up, change into dry clothes, etc. This part is sending me over the edge. I can't stand the smell of urine. Especially when it's on MY KID. My kids take at least 2-3 baths per day (probably a trait passed down by their overly-hygiene conscious papi who also bathes at least 2-3 times per day). So this wipe down the pee with a wet-wipe and move on with the day is a little much for me to handle. So for now, if you come visit me, just be prepared for the fresh stench of urine you will smell on MY DAUGHTER and at MY HOUSE. YUCK!