Teaching a toddler, my toddler in particular,
to pee and poop on a toilet has always been something
that I didn’t particularly look forward to.
You can call me lazy, awful, horrible and a shitty parent all you want
(no pun intended) but I just never got super excited at the thought of potty
training GiGi.
First of all, the word “training”
instantly brings me thoughts of the Olympics, or animals who do tricks, both of which are quite cool but not exactly the image of my child on a potty seat.
The idea of my daughter learning to go to
the bathroom outside of her pants isn’t first on the list, however screwed up
that is.
So, the wording alone puts me
off, never mind the actual possibility of my child giving me more fun messes to
clean up in the future. (****And on a side note - if they call it "potty training" does that make me the coach? If so, where are my whistle, jersey, and both head and arm sweatband? Do we need a sponsor?)
I want her to have the independence that comes along with
going to the bathroom alone, really I do.
I also love entertaining the idea that my wallet will be fatter from
spending less money on diapers, etc.
With anything that my babe does, it’s on her schedule and at her pace,
this much I’ve learned. Family and
friends and lovely sites have talked about toddlers+bathrooms=challenge. It was inevitable that being a first time mother
I would try to pick up some tips on what might make sense for potty training
bathroom Olympics protocol. One week
GiGi had this epiphany that peeing in her diaper is something far too exciting
to keep to herself, and when she shares that news with me I change her
diaper. Voila! Picking up on what she was layin’ down, I
began the whole potty training thing with the deluxe clone of a big potty that
comes in the delightful shade of baby blue and produces stickers when she flushes
and music when she is both trying to go potty and when she actually goes. Sensors, stickers, music, and a flip up
toilet seat…what’s not to love right?
Right. GiGi played with the
potty constantly. Played as in the past tense of play. I opted for a potty seat that fits on the “big
girl potty” and removed the deluxe toddler potty because the only use we were getting
out of that was a make shift ipod (or would that be ppod?) and a removable pee
holder that my kid would suck on. Don’t
worry, it isn’t as gross as it sounds. If she had actually sat on the seat with
a bare butt to pee instead of giving the seat a little ass-drive-by, then I would have freaked out a little more.
GiGi is the proud owner of a princess pink designed potty
seat that I couldn’t care less about and she doesn’t understand at all (fyi: we
have stricken the word PRINCESS from our vocabulary here. Unless there is one shaking your hand at
Disneyland or you’re referring to a Disney song sung by one). She has a little step to help her off of the
potty and a few other items to assist in potty time. Being that I am doing this whole “training”
thing and the last that this situation arose I was a kid myself and on the
learning end of it – I don’t know jack about what I’m doing. Peeing and pooping and loving GiGi are all
natural things so I figure I’ll just wing it.
(Potty Animal)
I know that I have, thus far, created a potty monster. She is getting awfully demanding in the
bathroom although Im sure if she had better-than-terribly two- manners it would
just seem ritualistic and normal.
Anytime she is set on the potty, she screams “water!” and “bookie! Fish!”
which means, “Hey mom can you please fetch me a little cup by the toothbrushes
and fill it with water and then grab my Dr. Seuss One fish two fish Braille book?
Thanks, you’re a dear.” If the
previously stated needs are not met, then I get to deal with potty boss and her
wicked refusal to pee. I try to shutdown
her crankiness, and appease her wishes, since I am the one who created this
standard of potty training. When I
originally started taking her to the bathroom, I brought her a book for double
reasons. 1.) maybe she would sit longer
with a book she loves, and, 2.) who doesn’t like something trashy to read on
the toilet? I’m sure most people don’t
find Dr. Seuss trashy, and on the whole I don’t either, but how responsible is
it to have a fish driving a car in the water?
And counting too? Sounds like a
sobriety check to me, don’t you think
(coughcoughLindsayLohanoftheFishWorldcough)?
Im just saying its like a toddler version of In Touch magazine….ish. The water thing was a suggestion by a few
people as a tool that might make the pee come out faster than the molasses-long
wait we had been having.
Water, book.
On tough days I sing the Kimya Dawson song Pee Pee in the Potty, to her but I fear
it only makes her giggle the pee in instead of out. I’ve learned to keep her on the potty for a
little bit because my luck has been to take her to the bathroom, grant her
book, water, and song wishes and then finally let her red-ringed booty climb
down off of the toilet only to have her instantly pee wear she stands.
The whole potty training thing is going along like anything new
and challenging. There are times when
she just wants a book and a sip of water so will say “potty mommy!” knowing I
will rush her to the bathroom (and then nothing!) Then there are those
occasions where I will tell her that she can go potty after mommy, and she ends
up peeing where she stands because she really did have to go, minus the books
and water. She is also doing really
well with saying “POOP” right as she begins to go. I keep asking her to tell me when she has to
go, and although she’s doing just that, Im hoping she will give me a longer
heads up. It’s quite the learning
experience for the both of us.
There is also the ever-present elephant in the room when it
comes to talking about potty training with other parents. We all know that this milestone, like feeding
themselves, walking, and talking, are all things that move our kids toward
independence. Move them toward trust
from us to do little things they can handle, alone. I trust GiGi to walk into her room and play
with her toys. I know that she can tell
me what she wants now whether it be milk, dinner, swings, books, kisses, or
peeing. What I’m nervous about, to be
quite honest and bearing too much information is the bathroom, and more
specifically poop. I know that kids are
messy and I also know that they try hard to not be, sometimes. How, with a severe visual impairment, is GiGi
going to learn to umm, maintain that aspect of the bathroom going process? I posed this question in a parenting forum anonymously: “How do you teach your children when they can
stop wiping after they have gone poop/number two/ deuces?” Do you know what the response has been?
“what are you blind?”
or “what are they blind? You can just tell by looking.” or "it's not hard, just look."
Thus my dilemma.
There is no forum for this kind of a question on a “parents of blind
children” website, nor do I really feel all that outgoing with a question like
this. Does that make any sense? I mean I can explain my frustration here, but
to ask a group of parents who have been in my position, with or without
anonymity …feels slightly silly. The
answer feels like it should be an innate part of raising a child with visual
impairments and my asking would prove I’m truly an idiot. I don’t feel like being the one that the other
parents point and laugh at over this subject.
I’m sure it seems like a trivial
question and all, but the lack of an answer plagues me and sometimes
intimidates me. So our potty training
continues, with a what-feels-natural vibe and a ton of questions that I suppose
I will have to figure out on my own and then put in a public web-place
somewhere so that other mothers don’t have to go “oh fuck. How am I going to
teach little Sally THAT?!” like I’m doing.
In the midst of all the odd bathroom rituals we’ve created
together, GiGi and I use bathroom time as bonding time, just like my sisters
and I did and still do. When I was
younger, our bathroom was always filled with girls. I blame my parents need to build such a large
bathroom for invoking bathroom gab fests for the duration of my life. To this day, locked or not, you can expect
the bathroom door to open at some point during your time in the bathroom, and
some family member walking in to talk about something in secret. It feels like the same thing is beginning to
happen with GiGi as well. It amuses me
that we spend so much time in the bathroom together, reading and singing;
talking about ABC’s and counting to ten.
I think it’s because of this that I can relax for the moment and let
nature takes its course, instead sitting there uptight because I don’t really
have a clue what I’m supposed to be doing.
