Review: super undies!

When George was 15 months old, our family doctor asked if we had a potty chair; we didn't, and I felt neglectful, so we bought one that day. I now realize that she was casually inquiring, but it worked out: we taught George the sign for potty and he immediately began pooping in his new little chair. It was great, took minimal effort from all parties and I've changed fewer than 20 dirty diapers in the intervening year and a half. Our cloth diaper stash is much better for it, and nobody's missing that in the laundry. It looked like we were on course to be diaper-free around his second birthday, but then someone showed up who began to use all of his precious, precious diapers. 

George wasn't initially swayed by promises of cool new underwear, and we had neither the desire nor the funds to buy an entire new stash of cloth diapers. He was getting too big for most of them, anyway, so pocket-style training pants were an excellent solution. Just his size, easy to pull up and down, and best of all, they looked and felt enough like the diapers he so (suddenly) loved. As he gained confidence and developed the ability to "listen to his body" we could take out the absorbent insert and use them as undies.

I was excited to try Super Undies because they seemed to be exactly what we needed. They were basically identical in concept to cloth diapers, and similar enough in appearance for our diaper-possessive toddler. So, I jumped at the opportunity to review the Super Undies Pocket Potty Training Pants.

I love that they unsnap in the back for easy changes once dirty or wet, and the fabric is the same leak-proof PUL that we've been using in the one-size pocket diapers George has always known. Side tabs made of stretchy lycra allow for relatively easy self-care (an important thing for parents of more than one!). Stuffed with the microfiber insert, the fit of the Super Undies trainers is slightly trimmer than the fit of a fully-stuffed pocket diaper which helps George with comfortable movement and doesn't necessitate pants two sizes bigger than he'd otherwise wear. Without the insert they fit almost exactly like underwear, but give confidence to my cautious guy who's easily embarrassed by potty misses in public. 

Size-adjustable snaps are a big plus for the Super Undies Pocket Potty Trainers, and is the feature that sets them apart from other cloth trainers I've seen. I recommend washing them with care and line-drying only (despite that the company's care instructions recommend a tumble dry), as I've found the elastic to be especially prone to snagging and pilling. Overall, we're extremely happy with them and will be adding more to our stash when Zelda is ready to start her potty learning process.

Disclosure: I received a free pair of Super Undies Pocket Potty Trainers for review. The opinions expressed are my own; I review only products I can recommend. 

Fred Rogers wins again

"I'm learning to sing a sad song when I'm sad.
I'm learning to say I'm angry when I'm very mad.
I'm learning to shout,
I'm getting it out,
I'm happy, learning
Exactly how I feel inside of me
I'm learning to know the truth
I'm learning to tell the truth
Discovering truth will make me free."

Sometimes. Just sometimes, you can see a crack open up in that incomprehensible two-and-a-half year old brain that drives your sweet child to pee on the floor even as he is screaming, refusing to sit on the potty (despite that you have not suggested he do anything of the sort). Sometimes it is while Fred Rogers, patron saint of small children and marionettes, is singing the truest words you've heard since the last time he sang the truest words you've ever heard. And that adorable floor-peeing despot will stop ripping up puzzle pieces, stand up and stare at the TV like Mr. Rogers is peering straight into his very soul, then approach you and say, "Mama, sometimes I'm a rascal because I feel something inside, like a crinkly feeling or something. I just want to play. I get intense. I'm sorry, Mama." And if he were alive, you would book a flight to Pittsburgh that very second to throw yourself at Fred Rogers' worthy feet.