This is Potty Talk, with Lisa Budesheim
Lots of 'poop' talk. Skip if you're not into that. But come on, it's poop. Everyone does it!
I've often joked that Emma would be the 'death of me'.
I'm not joking anymore.
Whoever said that potty-training girls was easier than boys lied.
Emma will be 3 in December. I was planning on trying to start training her then. Well, as I mentioned in an earlier post, she decided it was time. Okay, cool! Great! "Maybe this will be easy", I thought; "Maybe they were right."
Let me give you a glimpse into my day, shall I?
She wakes up, she has to pee. She pees. Gets an M&M. Pees again. M&M. Pee. M&M. Pee. M&M. By the time she's done, she doesn't want breakfast, because she's so full from M&M's. I'm convinced that either, A) she has the bladder the size of a circus peanut or B) she's making herself stop mid-pee, so she can get off, get a treat, and then go pee again. Literally, she does this 4 or 5 times in a row EVERY TIME SHE HAS TO PEE. It's trulyingenious, and perhaps I'm jealous that I never thought of it annoying and it's trying what little patience I have left. Okay, fine. So she pees a lot. No biggie, as long as she's going on the potty, right? Yeah, right. With all of the peeing the kid does, how does she still have enough pee in her to have accidents? My kid is truly talented. Granted, accidents have been very few, so that's truly something to be impressed with, and I am, and I tell her.
Now, let's talk about poop. Oh come on, it's just poop. Everyone does it. When Emma has to poop, she starts whining, and holding her behind. She tells me she has to go to the bathroom. Fine, so we go into the bathroom she sits and cries. And cries. And cries. Like she's going to DIE if she poops. I tell her just to poop. She says, "I can't want to go poop." Lather. Rinse. Repeat. This conversation goes on for at least 10 minutes. Her crying, snot pouring down her face, me trying to remain calm and sunshiny and smiley, all while wanting to cry right along with her. She gets off the potty, gets back on, runs around crying holding her butt, gets back on. I've tried making it a game, I've tried to be funny, I've even stooped as low as telling her that the toilet is hungry, and her poop is it's food...("whatever works", I think to myself.) A few times she's actually pooped on the potty, crying and screaming, yet proud and amazed that she did it and she was, in fact, still alive. Other times, she holds it until naptime when she gets a pull-up on, then she CRIES because she pooped in her pull up.
I've come close a couple of times to just stopping the whole thing. I've even suggested it to her. I say, "Em, let's just put a diaper on and we can try to use the potty later." Well, she cries like I've suggested chopping off a digit. So THAT'S not an option. So, we are in it for the long haul. We are in full on training mode. I can see that it's going to take some time, and I think we BOTH may need a prescription for Xanax before it's all said and done.
I AM so proud of what she's accomplished in such a relatively short amount of time, and yes, I praise the hell out of her. However, can I make it out alive on the other side, with a potty-trained child and all of my hair?
Dear Emma,
I'm sorry I'm talking about your pooping escapades on the internet, which is forever. One day, you will google your name and find this blog, and be mortified that I described the way you run around, holding your butt. You will be embarrassed. I will laugh and not care.
I love you , sassy girl.
Love,
Mommy.
I've often joked that Emma would be the 'death of me'.
I'm not joking anymore.
Whoever said that potty-training girls was easier than boys lied.
Emma will be 3 in December. I was planning on trying to start training her then. Well, as I mentioned in an earlier post, she decided it was time. Okay, cool! Great! "Maybe this will be easy", I thought; "Maybe they were right."
Let me give you a glimpse into my day, shall I?
She wakes up, she has to pee. She pees. Gets an M&M. Pees again. M&M. Pee. M&M. Pee. M&M. By the time she's done, she doesn't want breakfast, because she's so full from M&M's. I'm convinced that either, A) she has the bladder the size of a circus peanut or B) she's making herself stop mid-pee, so she can get off, get a treat, and then go pee again. Literally, she does this 4 or 5 times in a row EVERY TIME SHE HAS TO PEE. It's truly
Now, let's talk about poop. Oh come on, it's just poop. Everyone does it. When Emma has to poop, she starts whining, and holding her behind. She tells me she has to go to the bathroom. Fine, so we go into the bathroom she sits and cries. And cries. And cries. Like she's going to DIE if she poops. I tell her just to poop. She says, "I can't want to go poop." Lather. Rinse. Repeat. This conversation goes on for at least 10 minutes. Her crying, snot pouring down her face, me trying to remain calm and sunshiny and smiley, all while wanting to cry right along with her. She gets off the potty, gets back on, runs around crying holding her butt, gets back on. I've tried making it a game, I've tried to be funny, I've even stooped as low as telling her that the toilet is hungry, and her poop is it's food...("whatever works", I think to myself.) A few times she's actually pooped on the potty, crying and screaming, yet proud and amazed that she did it and she was, in fact, still alive. Other times, she holds it until naptime when she gets a pull-up on, then she CRIES because she pooped in her pull up.
I've come close a couple of times to just stopping the whole thing. I've even suggested it to her. I say, "Em, let's just put a diaper on and we can try to use the potty later." Well, she cries like I've suggested chopping off a digit. So THAT'S not an option. So, we are in it for the long haul. We are in full on training mode. I can see that it's going to take some time, and I think we BOTH may need a prescription for Xanax before it's all said and done.
I AM so proud of what she's accomplished in such a relatively short amount of time, and yes, I praise the hell out of her. However, can I make it out alive on the other side, with a potty-trained child and all of my hair?
Dear Emma,
I'm sorry I'm talking about your pooping escapades on the internet, which is forever. One day, you will google your name and find this blog, and be mortified that I described the way you run around, holding your butt. You will be embarrassed. I will laugh and not care.
I love you , sassy girl.
Love,
Mommy.
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