How to Potty Train a Demigod

(Read Whispers in the Dark first!) Thalia decides that her toddler is ready to be potty trained. Chaos quickly ensues. --Sparrowsong 23:33, November 15, 2009 (UTC)

Chapter One
(A/N: God-Mart is this giant department store. Think of it as a really, really big Wal-Mart that only gods, demigods, and mortals who can see through the Mist can go to.)

Other moms make potty training look so easy. Whenever I go to pick my daughter up from daycare, I'm constantly bombarded with "Hi, Thalia! So, is she potty trained yet?" "Wow, she's two and a half and she's still in Pull-Ups?" "She's potty trained, right?" "I switched Jimmy to Pull-Ups when he was three months old, and he was potty trained at six months!"

You probably think so, too. You probably think you can just put the kid on the potty and right away, they'll know what to do and they'll never, ever throw a tantrum or have an accident. Right? Boy, you're wrong. Clearly, you've never met a stubborn kid like Taylor.

Tay is...insane. She was a normal, well-behaved little girl until she was about a year and a half old. Then her dad's genes kicked in, and it all went downhill from there. Well, her grandfather is the god of thieves, so I can't say I didn't expect her to be somewhat mischevious, but I didn't think it would be this bad.

It was. And it still is. Taylor has tantrums over the littlest things, plays dress-up with my bras, refuses to eat her vegetables, and all that fun stuff. Pick some random toddler behaviour problems - getting homesick at daycare, coloring on the walls, etc. I can bet you she's done almost all of those at least once.

The kicker, though? When she has to go, she makes absolutely no effort to indicate so. Taylor just pulls her pants down and goes on the floor.

I sat at the table, watching her play. She was so beautiful it made me want to cry.

She ran around, no doubt high on juice, her unruly hair blowing in the wind from the open window. Her elfish little face wore an energetic expression.

I sighed. Taylor's the spitting image of Luke. Sure, she's a brunette like her mommy, but the resemblance is still so amazing.

"Taylor," I began. "Guess what?"

She let out an amused giggle. I couldn't resist picking her up and giving her a big hug. Her laugh always brightened my day.

"What?" she asked.

"We're going to God-Mart!" I excitedly said. "Aren't you happy about that?"

I heard somewhere that to avoid tantrums over a trip to the grocery store, you're supposed to make them exciting for your kid. Enthuse about it. Buy them stuff they like. I'm not sure that will work on my little girl, but I'm willing to try.

She crossed her arms and pouted.

"What is so special bout Gah Mutt?"

"We're gonna have a lot of fun there, honey! Guess what I'm buying you?"

"What you buy, Mommy?"

Taylor learned to talk at a very young age. For someone who's turning three in five months, she has quite the vocabulary.

"A potty! Yay!"

She gave me a weird look, and I tried not to flinch at the precise look Luke always had on his face when he was confused.

"We're going to a party?" she asked, uncertainty in her blue eyes.

"No, a potty," I smiled. "You're gonna be a big girl really soon, so you need to learn how to use it. Okey-dokey?"

She nodded. An unsure nod, like she maybe wasn't completely questionless.

Then we went to God-Mart. I prayed that she wouldn't have a tantrum in front of my very, very important in-laws, a.k.a. the gods. She's done that before, and it's not amusing.