Let's Talk About "Sometimes Rules"
*WHOOPS* I broke another one, PLUS: How I potty trained my 2.5 year old!
I returned from a much-needed girls’ trip last Friday to find a half-potty-trained child—my half-potty-trained child! My husband delivered Emma bare-tushed (and resolute!) on his way out the door for his own three-night, four-day escape “work trip.”
As ships passing in the night, David and I weren’t exactly synced on how to, ya know, keep pee off the couch. So I did what any solo parent is wont to do: I went rogue and began bribing our toddler to pee in the potty in exchange for chocolate chips.
Let me preface this by saying I know so. much. better. than to ply my kids with treats. (I’m not here to royally screw up their relationship with food forevermore, you guys!) As a rule, David and I reallllly try not to assign foods moral value—broccoli isn’t “good,” cupcakes aren’t “bad”—and we’re prettttty sure rewarding them with sweets risks ruining all of that.
And yet?
Both of my kids (#solidarity!) joyfully collected two chocolate morsels every time Emma peed or pooped in the pot for… oh, 72 hours. And guess what, dear readers? It worked.*
For the record, I’m not the only parent who sometimes breaks their own rules—rules that have been set for perfectly good reasons.
During a recent interview with Kim Grenawitzke, mother of two and senior feeding specialist at Solid Starts (the only IG feeding account you ever need to follow, with a new book out here!), she admitted she sometimes ditches her “one meal for everyone” rule: “The biggest mistake parents make is not starting the habits we want our toddlers to practice from day one,” she said—and don’t we all want to our kids to eat the same foods for dinner as we do!? “But sometimes, we have to play the short game: we make mac and cheese again because we don’t have time for a tantrum and just need to get through the day.”
It's like Kim knew I was boiling water for my kids’ fifth consecutive night of pasta while simultaneously making my own salad. 🙈
She got me thinking about all the other rules I’ve let slide—rules I actually believe in. I’ve come to think of these as “sometimes rules,” boundaries we break because parenting is HARD and flexibility can be crucial for both success and survival—but also fun.
For instance, I’m firmly in the “gifts are for birthdays and holidays” camp—I have no desire to raise spoiled children (I won’t!). But a few weeks ago, I decided my kids needed a three-story wooden dollhouse with a billion little accessories—because hey, they only get one shot at childhood! Several Facebook Marketplace exchanges later, they were real estate rich:
While I’ll admit that breaking my own rules makes me a bad example at best and a hypocrite at worst, I don’t think it puts me in the bad mom zone.
I mean, telling my kids we’ll get ice cream just once a week, then caving four times in a heatwave might be inconsistent, but it’s not exactly therapy fodder (a mom can hope!).
Here are some of my other “sometimes rules”—judge away.
Respond the first time you're asked to do something… unless you’re asking me to watch you jump off the couch for the 42nd time.
Read two books before bed… unless it’s even 1 second past 8pm and/or mom is about to conk.
Sit while eating… unless you’re a parent who hasn’t sat down for a meal in five years.
Wear pajamas to bed… unless you’ve already put on tomorrow’s dress and I’m not fighting that fight.
Don’t wear Crocs to school… unless it’s water day.
Don’t eat 700 packaged snacks in a row… unless you’re at a birthday party and the snack floodgates have opened.
Limit screen time… unless a grandparent’s available to FaceTime, in which case may they virtually babysit all day
No videos in the morning… unless you’ve woken up at a friend’s house, and they’re allowed to watch.
Actually, no videos at all!!!… unless it’s Bluey and mom a) needs a break or b) feels like watching, too.
No diapers… except when we really need to leave the house during potty training.
And the only rule keeping me up at night:
Post on Substack at least every other week… except when you have 12 other jobs and two kids and end up posting just once a month. (Bless you all for bearing with me—I’m so glad you’re still here!!!)
I asked my 5-year-old if it’s hard for him when rules change—like the one about peeing only in the potty, except if it’s a emergency and you’re already in the pool (SORRY/shhh!). After asking him three more times (does your kid ever answer on the first try?!), he finally shrugged and said, “Yeah.”
And honestly? Fair.
It is confusing when the rules shift. But it’s also real life. Plans change. Circumstances change. Parents change their minds because we’re new here or desperate or tired or softies at heart. What matters most, I think, is that my kids understand the difference between firm boundaries (anything that comprises their safety) and flexible ones (mostly everything else). We’re all still learning what flies and what causes irreparable damage! And when we figure everything out? We’re all getting chocolate chips.
*EMMA IS OFFICIALLY POTTY-TRAINED! And it wasn’t even that hard!
If you think I spent even one second reading the Oh Crap! Potty Training Book to prepare myself, well… you’re mistaken. As I shared with a friend who lives two floors below us, who is also potty training her two-year-old this week, my approach was homegrown and simple.
We kicked things off spontaneously on a morning when Emma woke up with a dry diaper, and I encouraged her to try to pee using this potty seat. (A relic from potty training Shay, it’s ideal, IMO, since kids can use it independently, and you never have to wipe pee or poop out of separate vessel. Be influenced, or be sorry!!)
After initial success, we all cheered and danced (and washed our hands!). I have no idea what happened over the next few days (see: girls trip) but when I got back, I kept Emma home and pants-less except for stroller naps when she wore a diaper. We encouraged her to use the potty/ check in with her body for that pee-pee/poop feeling every 10 minutes or so. After every successful ~elimination~ we made the biggest deal (volume and jumping height are key!) and Shay ran to get everyone chocolate chips.
To stop this from going on forever, Emma and I worked together on a potty chart with clear benchmarks, and she brainstormed several prizes: Ice cream (food again, I know…); “a bag,” which ended up being a backpack I’d already bought her for camp; Paw Patrol undies, a necessary evil; and the grand finale—Elsa and Anna dolls! These paced out naturally to about one prize per day.
Not pictured is my first-born devil. One cannot understate the value of a 5-year-old potty-training assistant, who really stepped it up these past few days as the loudest voice singing our family’s original ditty, “Emma Peed in the Potty!” He also served as the official potty chart checker; celebratory chocolate chip distributor; and prize presenter. Sweetly, he stood by with so much pride—and remarkably, not even one hint of jealousy!—as Emma collected each award.
After a couple of days, Emma began telling us when she had to go with success about every four tries, by my estimate. She’s had zero accidents since day one, and has basically forgotten about the chocolate chips—which was totally unexpected, but I guess they lost their novelty. She loves this little travel potty, which I swore I would never buy, but actually really like keeping under my stroller since it makes potty tries on the go SO easy—trust!
So that’s it. BYE DAY DIAPERS! 🥹 And good luck if you’re on this journey. No one goes to college in a diaper, godspeed! 🙏