This is the first feature in Motherly’s new series, Can I Be Honest?, where mothers share the fears, failures, and triumphs they are often too hesitant to post in the group chat. Because while raising children is undeniably hard work, the journey becomes significantly more manageable when parents feel free to talk about it openly.

For weeks, the social media algorithm delivered a singular, highly confident message straight to Hannah Pasternak’s phone: potty training could be accomplished in three days flat. The digital consensus, packaged neatly into well-designed carousels and talking-head Reels, laid out a straightforward blueprint. If a child was deemed ready, parents simply needed to remove the diapers, introduce the potty at regular intervals, maintain a zero-shame policy regarding accidents, and keep the child commando-style without underwear for the first two days. By the third day, according to the viral tutorials, families could re-enter the outside world with their newly trained toddler wearing pants—albeit still commando. Three days, and the job was done.

It appeared simple enough to execute. So, during the Thursday leading up to the July Fourth holiday, Pasternak and her family took the plunge, diving headfirst into the structured, rapid-fire method popularized across digital platforms.

This Isn’t Your Mother’s Potty Training Manual
Reflecting on her own childhood, Pasternak recalls only vague memories of an ad-hoc sticker chart her mother constructed, and no recollection whatsoever of potty training being treated as a monumental, high-stakes milestone. Learning to use the toilet seemed to occur organically in the background of everyday life, seamlessly woven between birthday parties, dance classes, and family dinners. When she asked her mother to fact-check this childhood memory, the confirmation was immediate: no manuals had been read, and no rigid methods had been followed.

"We didn’t have the internet or access to information like you do now," her mother explained, noting she had never purchased a parenting book.

The modern information landscape surrounding child-rearing looks vastly different today. Beyond the high-engagement social media posts, parents can choose from a vast library of best-selling books, such as Oh Crap! Potty Training: Everything Modern Parents Need to Know to Do It Once and Get It Right, alongside virtual courses created by prominent parenting thought leaders like Big Little Feelings and Dr. Becky Kennedy’s Good Inside.

Yet potty training represents only a fraction of the digital ecosystem. Modern parents navigate online courses designed to teach general parenting strategies, specialized programs intended to mold toddlers into model behavior, smart socks capable of tracking a child’s heart rate, baby monitors that analyze sleep efficiency, and artificial intelligence-powered home managers that monitor household supplies down to the last roll of toilet paper.

While these tools are ostensibly designed to streamline family life and alleviate parental stress, they frequently generate an unintended burden. For parents already managing demanding careers and the relentless administrative load of daily life, self-preservation becomes a primary goal. Sifting through continuous streams of data and analyzing optimization strategies for routine childhood milestones can transform manageable parenting tasks into sources of acute exhaustion.

Letting It All Hang Out
Choosing to bypass the digital noise, Pasternak and her family went in blind. They utilized no courses, no downloadable PDF guides, and no parenting books. The approach aligned with a relaxed, low-tech parenting ethos that embraced a simpler era of child-rearing—one featuring clear rules and boundaries, but free from the intense overcorrection often characteristic of modern resources. It offered a welcome escape from information overload and provided a softer landing for moments when energy reserves were running low.

The initial three days proved to be an emotional rollercoaster. The victories felt monumental, marked by sudden crotch grabs followed by a cautious, endearing warning from her daughter. Conversely, the setbacks delivered sharp blows to parental ego, such as a nonchalant puddle of urine appearing on the kitchen floor. One moment, Pasternak felt triumphant watching her daughter master a fundamental biological function; the next, she was second-guessing her timing or regretting moments when supervision grew lax during handoffs to her husband or mother. The entire process was undeniably stressful, balancing pride with persistent anxiety.

By day four—the family’s first venture outside the house since beginning the experiment—the fragility of the three-day promise became apparent. Refusing to sit on any public toilet, Pasternak’s daughter ultimately urinated in a steady stream down her own leg while visiting a friend’s home. The family retreated home in defeat, with a pants-less toddler and a mother grappling with an overwhelming sense of failure under the watchful eye of her own mother. The expectation had been simple: three days and finished. Instead, reality had intervened.

The realization set in that she had fallen directly into the trap of the rapid-training narrative, despite never having purchased a instructional manual. She had genuinely believed in the possibility of programming her toddler within a strict 72-hour window—an ideology that directly contradicted the laid-back, low-fuss philosophy she had set out to embrace.

Consequently, the family called it quits. Sending her daughter to daycare without diapers while remaining vulnerable to sudden accidents felt unfair to the child-care providers, and watching anxiety gradually develop around the act of pooping proved too high a cost.

What Pasternak Learned From a Potty-Training Pivot
Reflecting on the experiment, Pasternak recognized several alternative paths she might have taken. Traditional gradual methods often involve removing diapers exclusively at home while maintaining them during outings to gently bridge the gap. Purchasing the widely recommended guides might have provided troubleshooting tools for those initial three days. Alternatively, dedicating a solid week or more to trailing her daughter with a portable potty without giving in to frustration could have allowed the natural process to unfold, though managing the endeavor while eight months pregnant naturally limited her emotional bandwidth. Another option remained simply waiting until the child demonstrated clear, independent readiness.

Ultimately, no single approach serves as a universal solution. Families must navigate the options and determine what fits their unique circumstances.

Observing friends and acquaintances navigate the same milestone highlighted the vast spectrum of normal childhood development. One family with a daughter of the exact same age spent an uninterrupted week confined to their home, aided by a nanny and a child content with indoor summer days. When the families met at a local park on day nine for the toddler’s first public outing, the child had not used the public restroom, though she successfully held it in. Another friend reported that her daughter mastered the fundamentals within three days, only to begin experiencing widespread bathroom accidents a month later.

Today, Pasternak’s daughter continues to express disinterest in using the potty, though her communication regarding bodily functions has improved, suggesting readiness may not be far off. Rather than viewing the initial attempt as a failure, the experience provided valuable perspective. With a winter timeline in mind for their next attempt—or sooner, should the toddler request it—the family is taking a pragmatic approach to the milestone, looking forward to a season where toddler, newborn, and mother can all match comfortably in their diapers.