A River Runs Through It

I was back and forth on what to do about getting on a plane with a toddler who was having 3 gallon accidents. In the end, she got on the plane Friday with diapers. And, she was happy about it. And, God, so was I.

The Wednesday and Thursday before the flight, I was obsessing and analyzing in my own patented way … calling everyone I knew who had potty trained someone … looking and begging for advice. My gut told me that she just wasn’t ready but my heart wanted to give her the chance to succeed. Plus, I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation about how the undies had to go away for a while.

She was putting 100% of her poo in the potty, but the pee accidents were getting more and more frequent. She loved the fun part of potty training, real underwear, but hated the more mundane part, putting urine in the potty instead of continuing to play with toys. How boring.

The drop of pee that broke the camel’s back happened when I was outside on the phone having one of the above mentioned conversations. She peed on the sidewalk, watched it stream down her leg into a puddle and then got creative. She discovered she could make butt prints on the sidewalk by continually plopping her wet bum down.

So, after nap that day, I told her that it was okay if she needed to take a break from potty training. That she could wear diapers and still go to the potty if she wanted. It was okay to wear diapers and that the undies weren’t going away forever. That she could still get her potty rewards (like playing with her Tinkerbelle beauty salon set for 15 minutes every time she poops in the potty) and that undies are still in the drawer when she is ready for them.

And, what happened? She was a little bummed that she wouldn’t be putting on undies everyday but got over that in 3 seconds. She was dry for both plane rides. She asked to go to the potty before and after the flights and continues to put 100% of her poop and 75% of her pee in the potty.

She’s on the verge of making it happen but just needs a little more space and time to remember to ask to go pee. I know one day she is just going to wake up and tell me she’s done with diapers. In the meantime, I can put away the Martha Stewart carpet cleaner and drink my coffee in peace.

The Results

Somehow we made it through three days of potty bootcamp together and have re-entered society twice. I’ll admit, I thought I was going to lose my mind several times along the way. Not because of accidents or pee on the kitchen floor. It was the isolation. I felt trapped. The fact that all our carpets were covered by plastic tarps didn’t help with the sensation of mania either.

I see clearly the advantages of being in your home venue for 3 days, of having your child throw away all their diapers, of giving them the power to speak up by saying “Tell mama when you have to go poo or pee,” and of catching them in the act of accidents. It all makes sense. But good Lord, it’s mentally exhausting.  It was much easier to withstand when I was doing it for someone else’s kid as a nanny and 10 years younger. I will say that it does give you the fortitude to never go back, though. After Day 1, I was so happy to never have to do Day 1 again. On Day 3, I thought Day 2 was for suckers.

Back to the story. By Day 2 something had clicked. She had two pee accidents right off the bat in the morning but was clean and dry the rest of the day. (I overruled her decision to skip pull-ups at night for reasons of style and pride. She woke up in the middle of the night between Day 1 and 2 soaking wet and very upset. Changing sheets, blankets and pajamas in the dark at 4 a.m. won’t be happening again. I have, however, acquiesced and allowed her to wear undies and not pull-ups for naps. She’s been dry so far and I figured throwing a little confidence her way may help.)

Day 3 felt glorious in a shut-in, nut-house kind of way. Not only were we over half-way through the process, but she started telling me when she needed to go rather than me constantly asking her to tell me when she needed to go, over and over and over. I felt like an obsessive parrot who picked up a copy of this potty training manual and couldn’t let go.

As we closed down Day 3, I started to worry. What am I going to do tomorrow? There is no manual for the fourth day of this adventure. She didn’t have any accidents on Day 3 but we were always within 4 seconds of a bathroom. How do I leave her side, the house, the driveway?

And, then the reality of Day 4 came when she pooped in her undies right after breakfast because she was so engrossed in watching a guy mow his lawn outside. I realized that, no, I no longer have to carry diapers in my purse (hooray) but now I have to carry two outfits in case of an accident. I also just ordered a fold-able, travel potty for the car in case we are out at a park and nature calls. It will get easier, I know. The limbo period is what’s going to put me on tilt.

So, what does an All-American family do to get out of the house on the Saturday of Memorial Day Weekend with a newly potty trained toddler? They go to IKEA where the bathroom opportunities are a plenty and no one will notice if you have to wipe up a puddle under your daughter.

The real fun will happen when I get on a plane with her on Friday.

30 Pairs

Shopping List:

-30 pairs of “big girl” undies
-4 plastic tarps
-Stickers
-Gummie Bunnies
-High fiber snacks
-Big girl wipes

I’ve been earmarking this summer as the right time to potty train Lolo in between travel dates. When she hides under the dining room table each and every time she poops when we’re home, it’s time to put that recognition to good use. But, then I looked at the calendar and realized there is no perfect storm as we are in and out of town each month. With no time like the present, I dove into a potty training program recommended by a friend. (Extra Nugget: I’ve actually done a commando potty training program similar to this one when I was a nanny after college and it worked like a charm with Esther, so why not Lolo.)

I just finished Day 1 of 3, and I am about to pass out. The program requires you to be at home for three days straight doing nothing but paying attention to your child and catching them in the act of an accident … so you can race them to the potty … so they are getting that sense of urgency.

At lunch time, there was a pile of 7 pairs of wet undies on the bathroom floor. But, she was dry for her 3 hour nap (she rejected the pull-ups I bought because they weren’t panty-like enough) and then accident-free the rest of the afternoon. (Right now she is wearing Kushies Training Pants because they were better than a 72 cent piece of cotton standing between her and an entire night’s worth of urine.)

I know there will be many more ups and downs over the next two days and coming weeks, but I can at least scratch off day 1 and now fall into bed. I can still hear myself saying “Tell Mama when the pee pee is coming” over and over and over and over.

No Picture Required

And, so it begins. I purchased a mini toilet seat and stool for Lolo just so the idea of using it could roam around our house. Permeate the walls. Sit on the side table. “Hmm. Peeing and pooping in the potty. How about that? Quite an notion indeed. Let me just sit with that for a while.”

She thinks it’s funny to sit on the potty and on a random first try with the new device, I struck gold because it was the exact time nature called. Not only did she not get that it was a momentous occasion, she was quite appalled. She didn’t want nature to call right then and frankly wanted to hang up on her. “No cheering mama. Make it go away. Who wants to peer into the toilet at that?”

Clearly we’ve got a ways to go. But, we have at least a toe in the water, recognition (if nothing else) that giraffes do not go on the potty.

This is not our toilet. Just a representation of the product we've chosen to try. I am trying to avoid at all costs the process of emptying baby waste from one pot to another.