Potty training

MM note: I still recall the opening line of this column. I had it in my head for so long, it became a permanent fixture, much like the potty chair.

Dec. 27, 1999

Proper trained by the potty chair

I have lived for years with a potty chair in my bathroom.

Not that this is a bad thing, necessarily, it’s just that it’s a small bathroom. That’s valuable space being filled by a white and turquoise fixture that doesn’t really match the décor. (But the décor is another subject entirely.)

I first became aware of this when my oldest son, now 6, was 2. Being first-time parents, we got the potty early, thinking surely we could get him, our firstborn child, to learn to use it easily. Just as he learned to talk early. Or feed himself. Or put videotapes in the VCR.

But that was not to be. We lived with that potty chair for more than two years as he learned to use it. We tried everything. We followed the suggestion in child-rearing books. We encouraged him. We sat with him. We read to him. We tried warm water. We tried asking, telling, begging, pleading and, finally, bribing.

I consoled myself with the thought he wouldn’t be wearing a diaper when he graduated from high school.

At last, he got the idea. We were overjoyed. He quickly discovered it was much more fun to stand up and use the “big potty,” and his little potty chair was relegated to the garage.

The No. 2 came along.

Having gone through one boy, I knew not to jump in too soon.

But sometime around age 2, I bought another potty to replace the original that was worse for wear and showing age from being in the garage.

I was so excited when he willingly sat down on it! (Even if he was fully dressed.) He carried it around and played with it! He liked it!

But when it came time to try it without the diaper, he wasn’t too keen. It’s amazing how determined a little boy can be when he doens’t want his butt to touch hard plastic. So, instead of going through the asking-telling-begging-pleading-bribing stage, I decided to wait. He’ll use it when he’s ready, I thought. Yeah, right.

As he neared age 3, I realized we missed “the window of opportunity” – that time when children exhibit certain signs of readiness. However, I hoped we only closed the blinds and didn’t nail the darn thing shut.

Then there is the concept of consistency. When I was home on maternity leave with child No. 3, I tried to get child No. 2 to use the potty. We could go through six pairs of training pats in an hour. He would got for a couple of hours and stay dry, despite repeated questioning from me, asking if he needed to go, encouraging him to sit on the potty, waiting and waiting, finally wetting the training pants when Mom eased up on the interrogation. And the cycle would repeat itself.

When exhaustion set in and training pants were gone, I’d give in to the diaper. So much for consistency.

After a few days of it not clicking between us, I gave up and went back to diapers full time. I put off starting again because I’m not home all day to the asking-telling-begging-pleading-bribing – and changing. That means Dad and baby-sitter need to “buy in” to the potty-training gig. We all have to work together to get it to fly, or fall, depending on your perspective and penchant for cleaning.

Finally, with the Memorial Day holiday approaching, I made up my mind. I had three days to potty train our son.

Well, it worked, sort of. It’s not perfect. He doesn’t tell me before he goes. I still have to ask him to keep him dry. But he willingly takes my hand or heads off in the right direction when I ask, “Do you need to sit on the potty chair?”

“Potty chair!” he’ll crow. “C’mon, Momma. Let’s go potty chair!”

And when he’s done, he proudly claps along with me. “Yea, for Nicholas!” I exclaim. “Yea, for Momma!” he replies.

It’s music to my ears.

So, I’ll continue to live with a potty chair in my bathroom. Someday we’ll outgrow it … or I’ll get a bigger bathroom!