Almost daily conversations (if you can call them that):
Mom: Nolan! Why did you pee in your undies again?
M: I know it's not an accident, Nolan. You know you have to go.
M: I'm sick and tired of this. Where do you go pee?
N: On the toilet.
M: Good. Why don't you go there?
Mom: Nolan, it looks like you need to go poop. Go sit on the toilet and try to get it out.
Nolan: No, I don't have to go.
M: Yeah. You. Do. You're squeezing your butt cheeks together and walking on your tippy toes.
N: *Shrug* I don't haff ta.
M: Go. NOW.
N: I want a diaper.
M: Arggh. Fine. (Go to put a diaper on him and there's a big poop smear or more in his underwear).
M: I am so, so sick of this Nolan. You can't keep holding your poop in or we'll have to go back to the doctor. Do you want that?
M: Well POOP then.
N: *Shrug* (Doesn't poop for another day at least).
This afternoon he's wearing Avrie's tinkerbell underwear. He's not happy about it but he has no clean ones left. Am I creating a complex here? Am I going to turn my son into a 'little girls' undies loving pervert"? I. HATE. POTTY TRAINING. I thought we had rounded the bend and were 99% done. And now he's peeing in his pants all the time.
On an up note...Avrie pooped on the toilet today! Whoohoo!