I recently wrote a post about the 20 Conditions Which Must Be Met For My Kid To Use The Potty. While the majority of it was highly sarcastic, as with most of what I write, there was a degree of truth woven in and out of the silliness. It seemed, at times, that Baby 1.0 was ready to potty train, but when it came time to actually deposit anything other than toys into the toilet, it was a no-go, and cracking the code that unlocked the mysterious conditions of her random successes seemed about on par with deciphering Enigma.

And then Friday happened.

What actually changed on Friday, I will never know, but all of a sudden something clicked and now business is booming, or, more realistically, dribbling out over the course of 25 minutes of Frozen songs and patty cake. But predicting when it will all go down has put us on high alert, and in this state of constant readiness, standards are slipping. A little too vague for you? Anyone who is currently heading down this path, and anyone who has already been might have an idea of what I’m referring to, but for those of you who haven’t yet traversed the magical yellow brick bath mat, here’s a few hints you might be potty training:

There are pull-up diapers everywhere, the cleanliness of which are questionable. Wouldn’t want to throw one of those bad boys away if they are still clean, but who has time to check them all at the rate they are flying off that itty bitty bottom?

There is a potty chair in your living room. Sometimes 10 feet is 9 too many when you feel the urge.

There are more clothes on the floor than in the dresser. Because only animals wear clothes while they go potty, and only rabid animals limit their wardrobe to one outfit a day.

By the end of the day, odds are you have someone else’s urine on your calves/ankles/feet. Apparently the only way to celebrate a successful trip to the loo is to jump up immediately after finishing, and sit on a nearby lap. Naked, naturally.

You received a noise violation from your apartment complex for wildly celebrating the very first poop ever deposited in the toilet, which was rightly declared to be a Holy Shit.

You eat breakfast as a family in the bathroom. Also sometimes lunch. And often dinner. It’s also where you catch up on the news, create your grocery list, plan your future and question the meaning of life. 

You spend 4 hours of your awake time sitting on the bathroom floor reading stories and singing songs with a small naked person, and you don’t think it’s weird. Weird? No. Boring? Very yes.

In public, you constantly find yourself clarifying that you did not just poop in the potty after your kid told the cashier, the bagger and the stocking clerk at the store about your alleged accomplishment. I mean, maybe you did, but you certainly don’t need a high-five from the meat guy.

You believe your kid when they go pee on the toilet, and 15 seconds later tell you they need to go again. And again. Aaaaand again.

You think Let It Go is actually about someone who was on the verge of crapping their pants in public, and then just pulled the trigger and did it because they could no longer contain the swirling storm inside (but heaven knows they tried!). I know, I’ve been on a hell of a Frozen kick these days. See here for my parody of Do You Want To Build A Snowman, Do You Wanna Take An Ambien.

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Image Credits: Potty and Holy Shit belong to HMDHM, cover image credits here.