Before Jesse could even walk, he had a little walker that he would zoom around the house in and get into absolutely everything. He loved banging into my legs, and I had a visceral reaction every time I heard that squeaky thing coming because I knew it was about to slam into the soft part right above my heel. I developed an automatic reflex to stick my foot out and block him. To this day, I can stop a walker with my foot while stirring a pot of soup on the stove. It’s pure muscle memory. If I ever accidentally left the bathroom door open, Jesse would charge in with that walker, pull an entire roll of toilet paper off the holder, rip it up, stuff it into the toilet, and throw the rest everywhere else. Jesse at work in the bathroom Despite this early interest in the potty, I had absolutely no interest in potty training. I had a little mom’s group, and every single one of them had potty trained their kids before I potty trained Jesse—even the ones with kids younger than him. They were conv...