Mommy Post: It's Potty Time!!

I get that most people don't want to hear about the potty habits of my 2 year old.  But this is my blog and I think they're fascinating.  Just this same, for those of you who clicked a link but didn't read the title, this is your fair warning.  TURN BACK NOW!  Very soon, there's a good chance I'm going to talk about poop.

So, about poop....

No, that's a little too abrupt.

So some of you may know that we have been doing a terrible job of potty training our daughter, off and on, for about the past year.  At first, we started to punch it right when she turned 18 months.  I was potty trained at 18 months, I figured it would be a breeze.  That was, in fact, not so.  My daughter had this terrific fear of her potty chair, and after months, at her best, she would sit there until she knew she had to pee.  Then she would scream and cry and shake and try to escape.  Even our encouraging cheers were met with tearful response;  seems we were only reminding her of the terrible thing we'd just made her do.  Needless to say, we didn't push it much then.

So for most of that year, until about November, we would try occasionally, not push, just, "to see", and she eventually got over her potty-phobia.  But she also didn't mind peeing in her diaper, or her underwear.  Not a big fan of peeing on the floor, but you know how it is.  You gotta go, you gotta go.

Finally, we decided to push it in February.  We had 3 days of not having to leave the house, and we tossed the diapers out for that time.  During the day and night, wake time and sleeping, our daughter's bare bottom was all that we saw.  And she did... remarkably well!  She even woke up totally dry one morning, and was nearly always fine during the day and during naps.  Pooping was a different story, but that's to be expected.

Then we went out of town.  Then we got busy, and realized that for all of February and all of March, she would get to be home all day maybe 2-3 days out of the week.  Max.  My girl needs all day consistency.  My girl needs to forget that diapers exist.  There was just no way that was going to work out.  So, we put it all off with a new goal: Maternity Leave Potty Training.  Catchy, no?

So this week we got it all started.  Little girl's behind has not been diapered since Monday (for future reference, like when alien races use blog posts to better understand human behavior, today is Thursday).  I've learned that if you just plan to shampoo the carpet when this is all done, and consign yourself to doing a buncha extra laundry, it's not really that big of a deal.  PLUS, it has some amazingly entertaining perks!

Things I've learned while potty training my daughter:
1) I've discovered that my daughter is a tiny little liar.  I don't know why, these lies don't enhance her life, but she tells them anyway.  
"Madelyn, did you pee in bed?"  
"Yeah, I peed in da bed."
"Where did you pee?"
"Right dere, on da piwwow."
Her bed is dry as a bone and still smells like fresh laundry.  Trust me, this nose has gotten a work out this week, but at least 75% of the time, she's lying about this.  She hasn't actually peed in her bed once since Tuesday afternoon.

2) I've discovered my daughter does not understand what a "good job" is. On Wednesday she went to pee in her potty chair, but half missed and soaked the floor.
"Madelyn, what happened?  You peed on the floor!"
"Yeah, I peed on da floor.  ... Now get a candy!"
Just so we're clear, she doesn't get treats for peeing in the potty anymore.  She's really mastered that.  Treats are reserved for special things, like poop.  Somehow, she decided that floor pee was EXACTLY that special.
We might need to work on that.

3)  I've discovered my daughter is a poopaphobe.  By this I mean a couple of things.  She doesn't want to go poop outside of her diaper, so from Monday until late night Wednesday, she just didn't do it.  Then just before bed, as daddy was giving her a bath, he noticed she started to crouch.  In his sweetest daddy voice, he had this conversation with her:
"Madelyn, do you need to go poop?"
"No"
"Do you need to go pee?"
"Nooo"
"Okay, remember, doon't go poopoo in the bath, just in the potty, okay?"
"... WwwwwAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"
Then of course, she did poop in the potty.  Seems she cried that sucker right out.  It should be said, I look at this story as more of a perk because I wasn't around to witness it or of course, clean up after it.

But then today, to further emphasize the issue, she crouched down to poo on the floor again. By the time we noticed, some had landed (yeah, we're really keeping the carpet cleaning products industry in business.  Buy stock.)  As I scooped her up to rush her to her potty, she turned her head and noticed in the floor.  She pointed in terror and let out a blood-curdling scream, as if she'd pooed out a tiny little serial killer bent on her immediate destruction.  I agree, dear daughter, poop is terrifying.  That's why we flush it down the toilet where no one ever has to see it ever.

So that's our adventures so far this week.  She won't have to leave the house, even for a moment, till some time on Saturday, and with any luck, she'll have the hang of it by then.  Too soon? Guess we'll see!

Until then, folks, have a happy Thursday!  And if any of you actually made it this far in a gigantor post about my daughter's potty habits, well, you deserve a standing ovation.  Take a bow, because the clapping is happening now, and it's all for you, Baby.  All for you.

With great power comes great big stress ulcers

One of the things I've learned over the past few years is that parental incompetence begins long before the stork ever drops that kid off at your door step.  Which brings me to an issue that's been on my mind a great deal lately.  I'm pretty sure I might be an incompetent parent.

First, let me answer your question. No, I'm not drinking. I'm not doing drugs or eating buckets full of tuna or engaging in any other crazy and irresponsible behavior that may label me incompetent. No no, this is different than that.  I don't know, may be worse.

Because in 28 short weeks, I'm suppossed to tell some professional medical-type people what my kid's name is.  And I have no freakin' clue.

I've never had any sort of desire to wield this kind of power over another human.  I never made a list of baby names I would one day name my children when I was in high school.  (Because seriously, girls who don't get dates do NOT plan that far ahead.  We have more pressing concerns from day to day, like, "I hope no one looks at me and notices my... face", or the oh so unforgettable, "Don't fall down don't fall down don't fall down don't fall down don't fall down".) And for heaven's sake, I'm even terrible at naming pets.  Example: we are currently on our second cat named Allie (of course, the first one was an abandoned infant I found in a parking lot and it was sickly and it only lived for about a week, so I'm not sure if that counts.)  Unfortunately, everyone except for George Forman seems to frown on naming each of your kids the same thing.

For years husband and I liked the name Xavier.  Husband recommended it pronounced with a Z sound, and that sometimes we call him Zave.  But now we worry that if our poor kid is a nerd, (I know, OUR kid?? You'd never suspect...) that name will just sort of emphasize the nerdiness.  So Xavier is out.  Sorry Charlie.  Hmmm... Charlie?  No.

Anyway, there's a number of names that I think are ... nice, but nothing I necessarily love.  Nothing I'm elated about.  Nothing I'm ready to brand another human with for the rest of his or her life.  If you're curious how I did this once before, I didn't.  Husband picked the name years before we were in a position to think about it, and it sounded good.  So we went with it, and that worked out fine.  But maybe I should have some say on this kid?

Probably not.  ::Sigh::  This all just feels like one more thing to put in the memo line of the checks I will inevitably be writing to Thing 2's therapist.

Love, Mommy.