Confessions of a Potty Trainer
The things I’ve found myself having to say to my preschoolers recently never cease to amaze me.
“Only ONE boy can use the toilet at a time!”
“Firewood is NOT target practice for going potty, Mister.”
“You have to go #1 AND #2 to get two marshmallows.”
Yes, if you haven’t already guessed, we’re deep in the trenches of potty training at our house. Potty training. *SHIVER* Those two words conjure fear in the hearts of many a mama hoping to graduate their toddler from diapered darling to dry-pantied pre-schooler. So much so in my case, I had prefaced to my husband in our kidless days that there were three things I would delegate on to him as a “Dad only” responsibility: 1) potty training, 2) cleaning up after a puking child (the sight of vomit makes me instantly sick), and 3) driver’s ed. We’re a long ways off from permits and licenses, but the first two somehow have found themselves relegated back in my court. And I guess to be fair, there was no way around it since I do stay home with our kids full-time and, you know, taking care of them is... well, sort of what my job (hey, it was worth a shot, though!).
Thankfully, our first go-around with potty training provided me with much insight. When Big Brother was approaching his second birthday, he showed all the signs of being ready. A little rites of passage ceremony dubbed “I’m a Big Kid Now” (sung to the toon of the Pull-Ups theme song) took place as he was gifted all the supplies he would need to join the ranks of the potty trained pros: a potty chair, character-laden underwear (in hopes that Thomas the Tank Engine would motivate our little guy to do his business all the sooner), a reward chart, and special treats for incentives. It was all rainbows and ponies at our house for a few days and I breathed a sigh of relief thinking to myself that potty training might not be as horrible as I once thought it to be. Then the inevitable happened: as soon as all the excitement of new things wore off, so did Big Brothers interest in potty training. Special treats were not doing it for this iron-willed kid who had determined that if Mama wanted him to go, it would only be on his terms (which meant, not at all). Bummer. I moved on to Plan B which entailed a more militant tactic (ie, “You will go and you will go NOW!”). Yes, as you can guess that was also a plan fail. It became apparent that neither treats nor demands were working in our favor... and seeing that there were so many other battles to be won with my strong-willed child, I reluctantly decided to pull out the white flag of potty training surrender and with that put all our “I’m a Big Kid Now” supplies into storage. Like many parents of young children, I was assured not to worry, that he’d undoubtedly be potty-trained before he left the house for college. Ha! It’s a funny sentiment when it goes someone else’s way, but during that time I had my doubts!
The potty chair collected dust and in a year’s time we found ourselves basking in the Caribbean sun on a two-week cruise with all of my husband’s extended family. Big Brother blew out the candles on his third birthday cake surrounded by nineteen family members, a crew of international servers wishing him happy birthday in their native tongue, but (gasp!) was still wearing a diaper. The cruise was great, with one major caveat: child programming was only available to children who were potty trained. It was a bummer, but figuring it did no good to fixate on what couldn’t be, I decided that we’d just make lemonade out of our lemons and hit the deck for the kiddie pool... surely, my three year old could enjoy some play time there. Only, we found out on day one of our voyage that children that are not potty trained are not allowed in any of the pools due to the water filtration system running in the boat. Let me tell you, there was definitely trouble in paradise! Little Guy was on a short leash on the cruise ship, not able to run or get out of our sight, and seeing as he was petrified of beaches, shore excursions proved to be a bust, too. By the end of our vacation, we all had made good memories despite the major “hiccup” in our plans... and guess who potty-trained himself the first two days we were back at home? Oh, the little stinker!
With Little Brother, I found myself in no rush to start this venture. With two young children in the mix, I had visions of never being able to leave our house during potty training season. Thankfully, there were some perks that I hadn’t anticipated. This time around potty training has become a group effort (Big Brother is very eager to assist Little Brother in “training”) and we’ve checked out practically everything the library has to offer on how awesome it is to go in the big boy potty. This has been ever so enjoyable on all accounts to both boys, who find any and all potty humor absolutely hilarious (and inherently the most funny when brought up at the dinner table!). While we’re not in potty training season I strictly enforce an “If it happens in the bathroom, let it only be spoken about in the bathroom” policy, but I fudge when we’re training. Sometimes I fear if I hear another joke about bodily functions- or another request to read Everybody Poops- I’ll scream. But then again, it’s enjoyable, for once, to be the “fun mom” during a tough transition.
Three seems to be the magic age at our house for potty training boys; call it late, call it early but I’m just thankful to be done with it and and exhaling a sigh of relief knowing it did in fact, take place before the kids left for college.
Oh, and I’m pretty sure parents should get an award for getting their children through potty training. It’s definitely a small victory, yes?
What have you found to be the greatest help in potty training your child?