My Boy Likes to Potty . . . .Some of the Time

It is a new year, time to look ahead, to make resolutions, a time to focus on the future. I’m bucking that trend and discussing a topic that was so last year in my home: potty training. It is the topic that will be last year, this year and possibly next year. When we decided to potty train Jude, it occurred to me that this is a somewhat sadistic process. Basically we are telling our small child that everything he has done up until this point has been wrong and now he has to put that in there or he will forever be ostracized by polite society (and impolite society is just as apt to call him “poopy pants.”) But, Jude is a bright kid (so says his very biased mother) and he took to potty training right away. Brilliant, I thought. Potty training is great.

Then, as weeks, then months, wore on, potty training was not great. It was a struggle of wills, a battle of wee child and frustrated mother. We bought books, as I am a firm believer in the written word and find that I personally learn best from books. There were big grown-up books for us and adorable potty books for Jude. So, we read books and shared Dora and Elmo potty stories with Jude. We had stickers as rewards for each successful deposit. We experimented with big potty vs. little potty, standing up vs. sitting down (and though Jude did all combinations of these, he prefers his little potty now). There was much hugging and high-fiving with successes. Then, the successes stopped. Jude treated his pull-ups as diapers and my taking him into the potty every half hour did no good because he refused to use the potty.

One book that I read promised a “no crying” potty training approach. Lies, lies, lies. Evil propaganda. I cried. Jude cried. The cat cried, thinking “I go potty in my litter box every time. Where are my damn stickers?”

We had decided many months ago just to try underwear, but, unfortunately, the smallest underwear were still too big for Jude (boy will he love stories like this when he gets older!) Instead, we opted for Pull-ups (or as I now call them “those things that are just like diapers, only bigger”). Over the weekend, we decided to try said underwear again and though they fit very well, we had a completely disastrous day. More crying ensued, along with much laundry, but, since we have over a foot of snow outside our door, we weren’t going anywhere anyway. Then, the next day, a wonderful success. I was so happy and proud, as was Jude, who pronounced that he was going to show all of his friends at daycare his “cool big-boy Elmo underwear.” When I left him this morning, he had a spare pair in his hands and I think that’s what he meant, but suddenly I have visions of him flashing his Elmo-covered bum at the other kids at daycare. If that happens, though, I’ll know he is more like his dad than I originally suspected. And, I will have a good laugh because, as any elementary school kid will tell you, ultimately pee and poop are funny. So with a sense of humor and plenty of stickers, we will survive.

Song of the day: Death Cab for Cutie's "Lack of Color"


Photo: portrait of the potty-er as a young man