Life goes on amidst all the chaos of our move, with little lady taking yet another stab at potty training and driving me crazy in the process. I’ll be the first to admit, I am a failure when it comes to potty training, way too lax and wishy washy (read lazy) not to mention busy, to really get after it. I am guilty of sending mixed messages like, you need to use the potty, but not when we’re running errands because I don’t want you to pee in your car seat and it’s way too much of a hassle taking you and your brothers into a public restroom. Or, my favorite, when four days have passed and little lady has not pooped because she doesn’t want to go on the potty, me chasing her with a diaper, begging “Please, I don’t care where you poop, just poop!”
And just like that, potty training comes to an abrupt stop.
Until, I remember that little lady is scheduled to start preschool in a little over one month and she MUST be potty trained to attend. Uh-oh!
Two days ago, little lady, without any urging and completely unbeknownst to me, jumped on the potty and pooped. She shut every door upstairs in our house, went into the bathroom and then called for my husband to wipe her. I can’t imagine a better sign of readiness, can you? Then why has little lady pooped in her bathing suit and peed at a showing (on the kitchen floor, thankfully) and on my kitchen floor all within the last thirty six hours of her pooping debut?
Now, in the interest of full disclosure (and because I already disclosed this in the first paragraph), I must tell you that this really wasn’t her debut, little lady has had success with potty training in the past. I would have never attempted to potty train her so young if she hadn’t taken the initiative and done something like…poop on the potty all on her own. But just as quickly as potty training would start, it would come to a dead end with little lady refusing to use the potty, which (screw the how to raise your baby books) is probably when I should have given her a little push rather than backing off.
No more! This time around, I’m ready to go the distance. No diapers, except for bed time.
Now, the fun begins. Let’s just forget about the recent pooping and peeing incidents, let’s talk about nap time. Little lady is smart. I know this because she is cunning and you can’t be cunning if you aren’t smart.
She has two routines. First, there’s the night time, “I’ve got to poopy,” request which conveniently happens right when I’m putting her to bed. I don’t believe her but I don’t want to discourage her progress either, so I take off her diaper and undress her. She then goes into the bathroom, shuts the door and gets on the potty, or so I think. When she doesn’t come out, I begin thinking, wow, maybe she really did have to go to the potty. But then time starts to linger on, I peek in the door and she is missing. It’s a Jack and Jill bathroom. The other bathroom door is now open, as is the door to the other bedroom that the bathroom leads into. Little lady is no where in sight. I find her half way down the stairs, naked, pick her up and carry her back to her room admist her protests. She says, “But I have to go poopy!” Yea, sister, I’m not buying it.
Then there’s the nap time routine. Case in point, yesterday. I put little lady down for a nap and think she’s sleeping until I hear her little voice yelling, “Mom, I have to go poopy!” Ok, she may be lying, but she may not be, so I go in. As soon as I see her sitting behind her veil of a crib tent (looks cruel, but I highly recommend it) I know she’s got an agenda and it’s got nothing to do with pooping. Here’s what happens.I unzip the wonderfulness that is the crib tent revealing her Cheeto smeared face. She smiles and says, “I want to climb out by myself!” (hence the crib tent). Yes, as I’m typing this I realize I should have probably wiped her face, but….well, I have no excuse, so let’s just move on.I’m always interested in watching Houdini in action, so I relent, sit back and start snapping pictures. First, she tries the left side, but that’s not quite working for her.Then, she tries the right. Ok, that’s better.This is where things get interesting. Did I give birth to spider girl?One more stretch,and sassy is down. Look at that mug, I think I’m getting a small glimpse into the future, “No, duh, ma!” Do tweens still say, no, duh?Then she’s off.I did mention that her room is attached to a bathroom, right? I find her in my bathroom. She needs a box for her orange headed smelling McDonald’s toy, the one she had in her mouth in the opening shot (I sure hope they don’t recall that one). Apparently, the box is essential to her being able to poop. I try to pick her up but she yells, “I have to go pee-pee!” Notice how the story has changed? She walks into her bathroom and tries to shut the door. I’m not falling for that one again. We keep the door open, but I stay out of sight to give her some privacy. After a minute, I peek in only to find her busy filling her box with screws that her irresponsible mother left in a candle holder on the back of the toilet, which is a bad idea all around. A candle in a baby’s room? A candle on the back of a toilet? I don’t know about you, but I always think I’m going to singe my hair. (Does that explain why the screws are in the candle? I give up, today.)I pick her up, amidst her protests and frantic cries of “But I have to go poopy!” and place her back in the crib, zip her up, and perform my special looping technique because she can unzip the darn thing herself.
I’m sure she’s saving her poop for the pool. Happy Wednesday.