On New Year's Eve day our 3 year old finally decided to join the ranks of official "potty trainers." We've periodically tried for many, many months and he has consistently ended up wet if I am not setting a timer and dashing to the pot every 30 minutes. My potty training philosophy has therefore been, to try for a couple hours, and when he has an accident we're done for a few weeks. Well, on December 31, 2013, the hours kept passing, and he remained dry. He wore a diaper on that day and switched to undies the next. He's been proudly sporting undies ever since, with only a few pee pee accidents.
The Bad:
As great as it would be to continue filling this post with brag after brag about how genius my boy is on the pot, it's not the end of the story. Unfortunately, he appears to be certain that pooping on the pot is going to be a nightmarish experience. No surprise here. This is par for the course with our kids. They've all avoided the pot like the plague when number 2 time is calling. We spent the first week reminding him that we are here to help and that we will even get him a diaper to poop in if he is afraid. He just has to ask us. He doesn't though. He has made it clear he can hear us though. He just likes to do things his own way.
The Imminent Poopy Explosion:
He's a smart boy. He's a stubborn boy. He knows pooping in his super cool undies is going to disappoint Mommy, AND if he poops on the dinosaurs he might get stuck in some plain old boring undies. So, he does the only logical thing. He waits until nap time. I don't know if it's the beginning, the middle, or the end, but it's nap time, when he's out of his undies and in his nap time diaper, and he poops. Not a big deal, right? One might even suggest this is convenient for Mom and Boy. Except, he doesn't stop at just pooping. He goes one step further and takes it off. The first day it happened I was heading to his room after nap and he was screaming, "Let me out of here! This poop stinks!" My step got a little quicker and panic struck when I opened the door and saw him. The stench was indeed pretty intense and there he stood, not in his poopy diaper, but naked. "Where IS the poop?" I inquired. He response, "In the closet." I imagined all sorts of terrible things as I approached the closet. Would it be on the walls? Would it be smeared into the carpet? I expected the worst. Phew. There on the closet floor was the poop, still fully contained in the open diaper. We talked about just leaving the diaper on if he poops. I not so calmly reminded him that I will change him, and that he is not to change himself. The following day you could pretty much just hit repeat, minus the closet. It was right next to him and this time, unlike the day before, his bottom was full of evidence. Today is day three. It's only a matter of time before this gets very, very, ugly and everyone in this house knows there is an imminent poopy explosion coming our way, because as he himself proclaims, "I potty trainer, Mom. I not poopy trainer."
No comments:
Post a Comment