The potties are still sitting in the same place... unused.
A common theme I've had in my head since the girls were born is: "Stupid people do this all of the time -- how hard can it be?" Um, pretty freaking hard. I think dumb people maybe don't dwell on the fact they could single-handedly ruin their children's lives by making one innocent but well-intentioned mis-step. Not letting them cry it out so they become troubled sleepers for the rest of their lives (thanks Dr. Weissbluth!) or letting them cry it out and growing up with a lifelong acute sense of abandonment (thanks Dr. Sears!). See, dumb people probably didn't read those books. Making homemade organic baby food or letting Gerber do its goddamn job as the baby food-making experts. See, dumb people (and very very smart people) probably just bought some freakin' jar food and called it a day. Forcing the potty training issue shortly after age 2 or letting them decide around 3 that it's embarrassing to crap your own pants. See, dumb people (and maybe really smart people?) probably just let them crap their pants.
The last issue is where I am right now. Santa was kind enough to bring two pink, musical potties* (that also turn into step stools!) to our home for which he garnered some burnt chocolate chip cookies in return. The girls tore off the bows, yelled "Potty!" and demanded I take their diapers off immediately. "Really?" I muttered to myself. "It can't be this easy..." And it wasn't.
They sat there, bare-butted, pretending to go potty and then demanded I put their diapers back on and have never sat on them again. They always announce when they have to go at which time I gently suggest they go sit on the potty. In response they basically tell me in toddler-speak to go f#$% myself.
Along with their potties they received two potty-themed books about creepy-looking little girls named Hannah and Ashley who have learned to go on the potty which we read every night. The OCD twin even sits on the book pretending she is sitting on Ashley's potty. She tried to jump into the book the other night because dumb-ass Dora did that on a recent episode. My point here is I'm having about as much luck getting them potty trained (in real life, not pretending to in books) as I am getting them to drink milk out of a cup.
I have SEVEN months to get this accomplished because the pre-school we BETTER GET INTO requires the kids be potty trained. I don't like deadlines. Deadlines make me nervous. Especially deadlines that if not met might seem to suggest I am a failure as a mother.
*If potties that light up and burst into song when excrement hits the bottom don't cause a generation of shy bowel syndrome sufferers, I don't know what will.