“Fine. If you’re going to pee your pants again, then you can’t sit on the couch anymore tonight.”
I said those words to my four year-old daughter last night. She’s been potty trained for over a year now, but it’s been a bumpy road. Things had been going really well for a few months, and then the accidents started again just over a week ago. I’d been doing my best to stay patient, but it all fell apart yesterday. Thanks to a bout of insomnia, I was functioning on two hours of sleep. And by functioning, I mean not at all. Quite frankly, I was a mess.
My little girl cried; the couch is her preferred spot in our living room. I was conflicted. I felt terrible about how upset my daughter was, but I was at the end of my rope and I felt like I needed to make a point. I needed my daughter to understand that there are consequences to her actions.
She looked at me through her tears and said, “I wish you wouldn’t get angry at me, Mommy.”