Day 3 really began at 1:30 a.m. when I got him out of bed to try to pee. By 2:30 a.m., he had dry undies on and was back to bed. He woke up dry at 6:30 a.m. Time to start the day. I had gotten up hours earlier to down multiple cups of coffee to ensure optimal "peppiness" on this, what was to be, the last and most magical day when according to Lora Jensen, "it just clicks."
Day 3 was definitely a day of regression and power struggle. By 10 a.m., Ely hated my guts. He kicked and screamed when I'd rush him to the potty mid-accident, and refuse to finish. He hit my face whenever I mentioned potty (Did I mention that according to this particular method, I wasn't even supposed to use time-outs for any type of bad behavior so they wouldn't accidently associate pee-pee and naughty?). He had multiple accidents without even telling me he was going and seemed to get more and more frustrated throughout the day. Now that I write this all out chronologically, he was probably just paying me back for getting him out of bed to sit on a cold potty in the middle of the night.
Then Greg got home from his out of town business-related trip Sunday afternoon. Immediately, Ely turned into Daddy's boy. He wanted to show Daddy what a "big boy" he was and went all afternoon/evening without an accident (he did go during his nap, but he drank too much juice for lunch). Having Greg there really turned it around for him, but me being the self-depreciating, self-loathing person I am, I felt the most rejection I had ever felt in my life. But I guess that's why kids get two parents, right?
The day ended on a positive note, and Greg convinced me to put a Pull-Up on over his underwear for the third night.
Day 3: End Transmission.
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