The final score was 8-4 and we were on the losing end. It was the best defeat of my life.
We had just finished our first day potty training Louie. Months of prep had led to this. A potty training audiobook would have topped our 2025 Wrapped. Our Amazon order history was littered with potty training ads. We restocked our cleaning products. Then, the day was finally here.
We chose New Year’s week. My wife Katie and I each had that time off of work which meant no distractions as we navigated the uncommon terrain of a diaper desert. We also had just experienced the abundance of social time the holidays provided which we loved, but it made the switch to a fully shut-in day feel refreshing.
And that was very much the plan. We would spend the entire day at home. Louie would no longer don diapers, and instead run our house roughshod and naked. We’d crank the heat to keep her comfortable and crane our necks for any sign of an impending bio break. The second we saw one, it was a race to the potty.
In the lead up, I was really worried about it. It felt so daunting to not have the option to leave the house. But, I think there was a part of me that was most worried about being that hyper-focused on Louie more, admittedly, than I had since we first brought her home. I’ve fallen into such a nice routine on weekdays that my time with Louie feels finite in the best way. I get a big wave goodbye in the mornings then a big hug hello in the evenings, only leaving a couple hours before bedtime.
That scarcity of Louie time makes it easier to focus on her knowing it’s a mere portion of my day.
Weekends are filled with Louie time but also with errands, events, and extracurriculars. If you’re a parent, you know the weekend is anything but rest. They go by in such a blur that it feels like there are fewer grains of sand in the hourglass of those 48 hours. Plus, all the time in the car feels like a switch off moment with Louie content in her car seat.
Then, when everything honed in on Louie on day one, the strangest thing happened. The act of staying more present turned me into the best version of myself: Committed, focused, patient, encouraging, and celebratory.
That 8-4 scoreline was the ratio of accidents to pees in the potty. Even though we spent more time cleaning the floor than cheering for Louie on the potty, I remember ending the day feeling invigorated. It was one of many reminders in this parenting journey that staying present makes it feel even more rewarding. And new milestones often aren’t as daunting as they seem.
I wish I could say, however, that every day that week had the same effect. I did lose the plot as early as the second day. Most notably, I had a rather loud, let’s say, disagreement with Louie on whether she deserved to sit in my arms while I was making dinner.
Stuff like that, much like that scoreboard on day one, can make it feel like the losses outweigh the wins. It’s so easy to get bogged down, as parents, on the moments that do just that: bog us down. It’s also impossible to be present 100 percent of the time. And those moments of rest can be key. But the ability to be present, even if just for a day, and witness it all? That marks true victory. And that can be just as uplifting as lifting a trophy.
