Potty Training

I hadn’t really put a lot of thought in how I potty trained kids before.  With Mason, we pretty much just took away his diapers and let him run around in the buff for a weekend.  It seemed to work for him, and the diapers were history.  I never bought a diaper bigger than a size 3 for him.  For Charlotte, the first time I bought those size 4 diapers I got aggravated with myself for letting it go that long, and we embarked on a mission to potty train.  I don’t have any vivid memories of those events, so either it wasn’t all that bad, or I have just repressed the horror.  As a daycare provider I felt it was completely reasonable to expect that prior to their third birthday, most kids are potty trained, or at least well on their way.  I had a hand (gross thoughts just popped in my head) in getting more than 7 kids to use the “Big Kid” potty.

  It tested me as a parent and as a person, and somehow we made it through… I am not including this in the trauma-less recounting of her potty training. That is another chapter for another day! >

As Levi passed his second birthday, and I was buying size 6 diapers, it was quite clear to me that this was not going to be anything like my past potty experiences.  He would poop and give you a definite No if you asked if he “was stinky,” even though you could smell him before he entered the room.  He would pee so much while he slept at night that I regularly had to change pajamas, sheets, and blankets several times a week.  He didn’t wake up complaining of being wet, and repeatedly fought me when I tried to change his soiled pajamas, yelling that they were “just fine!”

An early attempt to train, I tried the same approach that we did with Mason.  I took the diapers away, showed him the potty, and said we don’t use diapers anymore.  I set him on the toilet and he flipped out like I had never seen before. That incident traumatized poor Levi enough that he would rather suffer the consequences of peeing on the floor than go back into that bathroom. For those of you unfamiliar with our house, we have a child sized porcelain toilet in our bathroom.  There is nothing scary about it, that is of course, unless you are more than 10, in which case the fear of not being able to stand up once you have bent down that low is a very real one.

We borrowed a plastic potty chair from a friend and placed it in the living room.  What man wouldn’t love to poop and watch their favorite show at the same time?  The potty chair seemed to be a fun attraction.  However, it mostly was for hiding army guys and storing food for later in hopes that Mommy wouldn’t throw it away. Despite desperate attempts to get him to at least try the cool seat, no potty-ing actually ever happened on it.

I am sad to say that after much seemingly wasted effort, and several loads of yucky laundry, I admitted defeat.  I was not a fan of changing the diapers of a large 2 year old who had the same diet that I did.  It was gross.  But, I would rather clean it up in a diaper than on my kitchen floor, or in the corner of the playroom.

About two weeks ago, still far from turning three, Levi announced he was ready to be a big boy.  He walked into the bathroom and asked for me to take his diaper off.  He sat on the potty and viola! Pee!  “It’s working” He screamed in excitement!

 Now that isn’t the end of the story.  He didn’t just wake up one day potty trained.  I don’t think the poor kid pooped for about 4 days because he knew he wasn’t supposed to do it in his new Transformer underwear, but wasn’t so sure about the toilet just yet.  We had a few, but only a few, “Oops I think I peed” accidents.  I have again got to visit EVERY public restroom in EVERY store we have gone to.  But we are rockin’ and rollin’ with the whole thing.  I have made up a pretty spectacular celebration song and dance, which I have the joy of performing 20 or more times a day.  I thought that after the first week I could retire that dance, but so far that hasn’t been the case. It’s a small price to pay for not having to change any more of those size 6’s though!

 I have heard lots of cute stuff as he processes the whole “How does this work?” in his head.  And his newfound interest in all things poop is ever so amusing.  The over interest in everyone else’s “peanuts,” not so amusing.

 I realized in all of this though, that I STILL don’t know how to potty train a child.  When I share our success with friends, many of them enviously ask, “How did you do it?”  Sometimes I offer advice, but mostly I just shyly grin and give credit where credit is due.  “Levi is just a big boy.”