(I swore I’d never blog about potty-training.)
(You’ve been forewarned. If you’d rather not read any further, you have my permission to stop and go read something about rainbows and unicorns.)
All of my life I’ve been one of those girls who tried her absolute darndest to deny the existence of bodily functions. I distinctly remember the first time I (VERY accidentally) burped in front of Chris. I was completely mortified – ready to melt through the floor, through the earth’s outer crust, and all the way to China, if I could manage to do so.
However, those niceties go by the wayside when one becomes a Mommy. I now regularly find myself having conversations with my child, with my husband, and with other Mommies about the intimate details of my child’s every function.
And that was all BEFORE potty training.
Now I’m just a regular poop-and-pee play-by-play-commentator.
Oh, the glamour of Mommyhood.
Ali was doing fairly well on the potty-training front, besides the fact that she’s kind of bored with the whole thing and would find it much more convenient to go back to diapers, something she often requests.
(At this point, my parents are laughing gleefully and evilly and feeling NO sympathy for me AT ALL, since a main story of our way-too-often-re-told family legends is about my potty-training experience. I learned easily and perfectly, and then one day announced, “I’m not going to do this anymore”, and quit cold turkey. No amount of bribing could convince me to re-tread the waters of leaving any sort of deposit in the toilet.)
Back to Ali.
The one problem with Potty-training is this: when kids are in diapers, they have no idea that they can control their bodily functions, and so they just don’t. However, when they start potty-training, they all of a sudden realize something:
THEY are in control.
As Peter Parker’s Uncle says, “With great power comes great responsibility.”
And so, when Ali decided that she didn’t want to poop in the potty anymore, instead of just pooping in whatever she happened to be wearing, she just decided to hold it.
And hold it.
And hold it.
Oh – and hold it some more.
Then, a FEW DAYS LATER when it gets to a critical mass, every few minutes, she stops what she’s doing, get a look of dread on her face, and say “Ooooh”, just like the Saturday Night Live Activia Commercials. Then she’ll get over it, INSIST that she DOES NOT need to go potty, and will keep playing.
For a couple of minutes, until she starts all over again.
So, when “it” refuses to reside at her inn any longer, it is horrifically painful, which confirms her decision that pooping is QUITE overrated, and so therefore strengthening her resolve to never do that AGAIN.
No amount of reasoning on my part can convince a two year old that if you put it off, it only gets worse.
Today’s experience with this cycle was the worst yet. It consisted of an hour of on and off weeping and gnashing of teeth, all while screaming, “I don’t WANT to pooooooop!!”
And so, if you ever see my brooding child with a look of dread and distress on her face, you’ll know why: because Princesses DON’T poop.
Personally, I can’t say that I blame her.