Disclaimer: When reading the following blog, you will be exposed to potty language and four-letter words. Before you go looking for more wholesome reading, I’m not talking about after-hours bar speak, just the type of stuff typical to potty-training. Never the less, you’ve been warned!
“It’s not poop, Mommy. It’s poo-PEEE,” he says exasperated between tears and grunts. He’s not grunting because he’s sitting on the toilet, he’s grunting because I said it wrong. Again. As if! I know in his mind what he’s thinking, “How many times do I have to tell you this, woman?” And so it goes, we’ve hopped on the potty training roller coaster. Normally, I’m a fan of rides but this particular one has way more downs than ups and as far as I can tell, we’ve only just begun.
Shortly after his second birthday, Micah moved up to the “Trainers” room at school. As the name would suggest, a big focus in this classroom is potty training. It was around the same time that he began showing signs of readiness such as alerting me after he had done his business. (“POO-PEEEEEE, Mommy!” as he points to his diaper with his tiny little pointer finger. His teachers asked if I could begin putting him in the training diapers, since they were a lot more conducive to sitting on their pint-sized potty. He started off excited and began sitting on the potty daily. Once or twice he actually went. Total fluke, but we rejoiced just the same and encouraged his teachers to keep taking him daily. What I like best about the approach at his school is the family partnership. They wanted to make sure we were all on the same page and using the same methods so as to not confuse Micah. Except for the little poop vs. poopy debate, I’d say we’re all good!
We had bought the sit-alone potty for Micah to use at home but he never really took to it. He did successfully pee a couple of times but he didn’t really like the, how should I say it, splash back? We decided it was best to purchase a training seat that attaches right to the toilet. We took a family trip to the local baby superstore for our newest potty training paraphernalia. Hubby and I talked about the seat the entire ride home and Micah seemed pretty stoked to sit on his new potty seat. He began a chant of “That’s my chair. It’s Micah’s.” as he eagerly waited his turn to sit on his new throne.
Unfortunately, he never had a chance to consummate the relationship with this particular chair. The instructions literally said “a snap to install in just seconds” and as hubby worked on attaching it, Micah and I read potty books and patiently waited for his turn to step-up to his new throne. Seconds turned into minutes. After almost an hour, Hubby cried defeat. It turns out our toilet seats are non-standard and we were not going to be able to purchase any of the snappy, easy install solutions. Definite low!
We found a cushioned seat that literally just sits on top of the toilet. The Mickey Mouse pattern was Micah approved and all was well until it became time to sit. “No, I want Minnie. I don’t want Mickey. I don’t wanna goooooooo pott-eeeee. Noooooo.” We tried again the next day and were met with an even louder chorus of “no’s” this time greeted with body jerking and a nice round of crocodile tears. And so we’ve hit another low.
Like I said, there’s been definitely “ups” as well. There was the week where he went poop at school every day after nap. After the first time, his teachers told me he clapped his hands and said, “Hooray for Micah!” We praised him at home the entire evening and he repeated the act each day that week. We encouraged him to go at home to no avail. A new potty seat? A different reward system? Simple bribery? Tried it all with no luck. He simply won’t go for us at home.
I’ve done the reading and know that there is no reason to be concerned. The struggle with boys is always that much greater and we’re not even close to his third birthday. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t frustrated with his eagerness to go at school and downright obstinate behavior at home. I’ve even considered installing a pint-sized porcelain potty like that one at school. Too bad Hubby isn’t a skilled plumber!
Recently, we went to dinner with another family whose son is newly potty trained. During the course of the meal, our little friend asked to use the restroom no less than ten times. I watched as his parents took turns taking him to go, fearing that if they made him wait he would have an accident. After dinner, I took Micah to the family restroom and changed him. I returned to see Hubby perusing the dessert menu. While our dining partners picked at the cold remains of their entrée, my family shared a most-delicious banana split. Not having to miss dinner for frequent visits to the bathroom? Definite potty training high!