In search of potty-training tricks of the trade
I have four children between the ages of ten and two. Three of them are fully potty-trained. What that means is that I was able to teach bright, albeit somewhat incoherent human beings, how to control their bodily waste removal function. Three times. Me. The girl who’s too lazy to wear shoes with laces.
It’s interesting because if I knew someone who had taught three children under the age of three on three different occasions how to crochet a doily, I’d call that person a doily crocheting pro. If I knew someone who thrice taught children how to make Chicken a la King, I’d say they were probably The Queen of Chicken a la King. Three successive attempts at teaching them to change the oil in the car? You guessed it. The Oil Changing Authority.
Yet, teaching a small child to consciously hold the pee/poop phenomenon until the underpants are pulled down and the butt is positioned on the special chair which, incidentally, has a gaping hole in the middle. THEN adding to their lesson the tricky functions of wiping and flushing before redressing? I�m sure most parents would agree that it HAS to be just as daunting a task as teaching said child how to crochet end table d�cor. So much so, in fact, that I’m back to being an amateur with each new primate, er, child-in-training.
My 29-month-old, otherwise known as #4, is the ambidextrous, multi-tasking girl known to eat with her right AND left hand while singing Itsy Bitsy Spider and playing a quick game of I Spy. This precious thing puts on her own shoes every morning, peels her own bananas, and points to her eyes when asked where her ojos are. No doubt Harvard, Yale, or Princeton is in her future… IF she ever learns to announce that she’s just peed all over the kitchen floor. At this point I’d settle for the announcement, as opposed to the NOT peeing on the kitchen floor.
The good news is that she�s quit hiding under her bed at the mere sound of the word potty. But her eyes don’t light up at the sight of shiny-new Dora the Explorer underpants like they did with #3. Offerings of frozen refined sugar concoctions if she’ll just “sit there” for three more minutes have no meaning to her, either, much the way they did when potty-training #2. Situating the potty in front of the TV and giving up the remote used to do the trick with #1; # 4 seems to think she’s in time-out. Or maybe hell.
I know the experts will tell me she’s just not ready. They’ll say she’ll surely be potty-trained before college. They’ll tell me not to stress. Above all, not to make HER stressed. And I agree with all that. But what were parenting blogs invented for, if not to research ideas on what works when she DOES decide to join the non-diaper-wearing portion of society?
So if you, dear reader, have The Golden Ticket to potty-training, please feel free to pass it forward. On behalf of my kitchen floors, thank you.