Thoughts on Potty Training

We decided two weeks ago to potty train Nicole because she's two and a half (almost to the day).

Although she's #5 and I should have this down to a fine art, my experiences with my boys were so bad I did some more research, asked a lot of friends' advice who had more success and fewer horror stories, and decided to take a deep breath and plunge right in.

Our first two days were great. Nicole loved her doll that goes pee, although it wasn't quite as successful as we'd like because she wanted to drink out of the doll's bottle instead of the doll! We have a pretty pink potty chair because she's the youngest and I'm no longer gender neutral. I felt so warm and fuzzy that I was being a good, responsible, loving mother. Since Nicole ate about 2 pounds of suckers the first day, she was very conscientious about going as often as possible. Then, disaster struck.

We ALL got the flu! Do you have any idea how disgusting this whole process is when the kids have diarrhea? Speaking from LOTS of stories and experiences on this subject (my mother being the recipient of most of the horrified calls during Scotty's training days - thanks for keeping most of your laughs quiet) I immediately put her back into her pull-ups. It saved a few screams and tantrums on my end.

After 10 days of passing this miserable bug around in circles, it finally ended, but the result is a happy, although stubborn, fair weather potty-goer.
Nicole has decided that she will go to the bathroom under two conditions: 1. We're in preschool and somebody else needs to use the bathroom. Result: two unfortunate "accidents" in preschool, one bruised head (Nicole's, as a boy pushed her off the toilet), and several near misses
2. We have a REALLY yummy dessert that she wants. Suckies, as she calls them, are no longer good enough. Now she wants "big sips" of "Diet Pipsi or Diet Dr. Papper" and big cookies or cake. Too bad we don't have the desserts around a whole lot, and I don't like to share my drinks.

One of the hardest things about this entire process is the complete lack of modesty on the young child's part. Since I'm musing over my long, painful history of potty training, I thought I'd write a few of my favorite memories. Most relate directly to this lack of modesty issue.

1. Nicole had a successful session in the bathroom during preschool, and threw out her pull up instead of putting it back on. While I was reading a story, she decided to do some pirouettes on the edge of my chair (any idea where this is heading?). Since that's a normal thing for her, I ignored it, until I noticed all the heads were turned toward Nicole. She was doing pirouettes all right, and giving the class a full moon in the process!
2. Last week we heard screams outside, so we ran out. Nicole was chasing two of the neighbor boys, completely naked, down the street. I had to grab an angry, slippery, and very strong little girl and march her into the house to get dressed. Half an hour later (no joke) she stopped screaming and resumed life as a dressed person.
3. Matthew preferred to put underwear on his head instead of on his body.
4. Scotty was known to come to the table without his pants on more than once.
5. A nephew of mine was once over when Dallin decided to take off his clothes. This particular nephew is VERY modest. He suddenly started gagging, pointed to the middle of the room and said, "Dallin's (gag) naked! (gag) Please get him dressed! (gag) (gag)"

So, as we head carefully into the weekend, my supposed time to really focus on getting the process mastered, I know deep down it's just not going to happen. We're too busy and I don't have the time needed to get this one finished.

Nicole's the caboose, and I'm looking forward to getting off this train and catching another. It's called - terrible twos, threes, and fours. But that's an entry for another day.

Just what I needed

The other night I was feeling CRANKY. I'd spent too much time working on preschool stuff so the house was a mess, the kids needed baths, dinner was late, and I had a UFO (unidentifiable foul odor) coming from somewhere in the back of the basement.

As I sat on the couch and sulked at my unfortunate evening (although I knew it was really my fault) Matt suddenly walked in and announced in a cheerful voice that I had four minutes to get my shoes on and meet him in the front yard.

I debated for about thirty seconds whether I was going to listen to him or not, because we all know misery loves company and he was too happy. I finally decided I'd follow him out and complain about the activity if I didn't like it. I made it outside with about 15 seconds to spare.

Matt had two bikes waiting and ready to go. He simply handed me mine and said, "Let's go." We rode straight into the darkness and headed for a trail that runs along the river near our home.

Have you ever ridden a bike at night under the trees? It's a GREAT experience. We narrowly missed some late-night walkers, but other than that we did ok. The moonlight hit us full force every time we came out of the trees. After the darkness, it was blinding! We listened to the crickets, ran over a few unfortunate grasshoppers, and followed the quiet whisper of the river as we slowly wound from one end of the trail to the other.

By the time we returned home and headed for the hot tub to soak and watch the stars, I realized my bad mood was gone, and I was able to fall asleep with a smile.

Thanks, Matt! It was just what I needed.