All posts tagged potty training

Who’s poop is it?

Wise Guy

Wise Guy

Yesterday Henry called out from the play room, “POOP!” He said it wasn’t his, but that doesn’t mean anything. He’s not above lying. So, we had to decipher was it human poop or dog poop. There’s been a rash of poops on the floor lately – a most disturbing trend that we can’t seem to stop. The shape, size and temperature of this dung led us to believe that Henry was, in fact, telling the truth. He usually likes to do it in his pants anyway. What a relief, right? When someone says to me, “Cherish every moment” I just want to snap back at them, “Not EVERY moment.” AmIright? I mean, stepping on poop in your bare feet is a moment that I’d sooner forget than hold on to fondly. Seriously, people who say that must have had a nanny.

Potty Training UPDATE

Today Henry excitedly called us into the living room, smiling and saying, “I pooped! I pooped!” We trepidatiously walked into the room, scanning the floor for his “surprise”. Low and behold he left 2 LARGE, alarmingly large, “presents” for us on the leather sofa. Thank God it is leather. Sigh…And that is how potty training is going.

COULDN'T BE MORE PLEASED...

COULDN’T BE MORE PLEASED…

Potty Training – My Personal Vietnam

Some time soon, I have to potty train Henry.  Oh geez – I am scared.  It was HORRIBLE and AWFUL with Carter.  I would also described it as MADDENING, SCARY, TRAGIC, MISERABLE, A NIGHTMARE, HORROR SHOW, CRUEL AND UNUSUAL PUNISHMENT, SOME OF THE WORST TIMES OF MY LIFE.  Oh, I’ve heard of the folks who say, “One day she just said, ‘I have to go potty.’ Sat on the potty, went and never had an accident.”  To those people I say, ‘good for you’.  Congratulations on living a charmed life.  I’m just going to count myself lucky that potty training was my Vietnam and not actually having a real Vietnam.  Only in that light can I feel “lucky”.

Henry is not ready, which I’m kind of glad about. My friend’s child who is just a few weeks older than Henry insists that she put underpants over his diapers. That child is ready. Henry doesn’t even want us to change his poops. He is so laid back. He would happily just sit around in a soiled diaper, smelling to high heaven rather than be inconvenienced with a diaper change. That child is not about to actually leave the room and sit on a cold toilet to empty his bladder.

I remember the first time Carter pooped on the potty. He was about 19 months old. We were all in our bathroom getting ready for the bath. Carter had a little potty in the corner that he would pee in. I was standing at my vanity and in an accusatory voice, Craig walked over and said, “did you do that?”. He sounded mad. I was like, “do what?”. He pointed to a very large poop in the little Fisher Price potty.  A potty that sang a song for you once something substantial hit the bowl.  And this was substantial, very substantial.  I looked at him like he was crazy and said, “Yeah. I did that. I decided that the larger, adult toilet was just too comfortable. I hunkered myself down on that little plastic potty and left that gift for you.” Then he looked at Carter and said with shock, “Did you do that?” Of course, Carter didn’t know what to say because it seemed like he did something wrong.  Totally not the text book way to celebrate your toddler’s first independent poop, we realized. So we immediately started dancing and singing Carter’s praises. In Craig’s defense, it did look like it came from a grown man, not a toddler.  But what kind of a monster does he think I am?  He thought I would do that and then leave it there?  Would he still love me if I had? Read more…