Manties

It's that time again. Time for the most dreaded event in a parent's life: potty training. Just reading that word makes me want to curl into the fetal position and start sucking my thumb. However, if I can successfully train Tyler to go in the potty, our family will officially be out of diapers. I think there should be some sort of Congressional Medal or special holiday for this event. Kind of like a cross between a Bar Mitzvahs and a graduation. We could build a bonfire of diapers and triumphantly dance around it...Then again, maybe not.
In a world full of girl's, Tyler (who Rance and I secretly think is a genius) has developed his own "manly" vocabulary. We gave him some new big boy underwear to motivate him, and Emma and Laura immediately started running around shouting, "panties!" Tyler looked very indignant and said, "No! My manties!"
"Perfect!" I thought. Now we have something to go along with the Bro and the Manziere. What are you going to do?
Everyone says that potty training boys is more difficult that training girls. I hope that is a brazen lie. It took almost a year of mind games and manipulation before Emma and Laura decided to take pity on me and use the toilet. And here I am back for round three. Luckily we already have a singing pottychair, several potty books (Everyone Poops is Rance's personal favorite), and a couple of movies that promise that there is no way you can get flushed down the toilet. I'm glad to see that I must not be the only desperate parent out there.
In the meantime, if anyone has any helpful tips about training boys, please take pity and send them my way. Thanks!