Last January, that’s 2010, we figured we’d better think about potty training the little man. We were planning a trip to Hawaii in April and we thought “Wouldn’t it be fantastic if he was trained by the time we went?”
FOOLS. We were absolute fools. On February 22, 2010, I wrote my first blog post ever. I then got very eager and immediately wrote two more, including my first post about potty training. The first of many on the subject.
I called today’s post “We Suck at Potty Training,” but the truth is if ANY of our methods or tactics had worked we would be touting ourselves as experts in the field and sharing our knowledge with the world. Instead, I am sharing our utter and complete failure.
He’d been in “real underwear” from the beginning of the training, as everyone said never to go back once you’d started. Well, “everyone” hasn’t been dealing with trouser bombs every single day for a year. He’d been doing okay, seemingly making good progress on the pee and letting us know when he had to go. The pants grenades were another issue, but we seemed okay with pee. Sure, there were a few accidents here and there but he was even managing to stay dry through the night, most nights.
We’ve tried bribery. We’ve tried empowering him. We’ve tried taking things away. We’ve been soft and supportive. We’ve ignored it completely. We’ve tried letting him go pantsless but quite frankly that grosses me out as he has a tendency towards “sharts” when he’s trying his best to hold in his business. Lovely.
It’s been over a year. Over the last few months he’s gotten worse and worse at letting us know he has to pee, and the accidents have been getting more and more frequent. He will NOT speak at preschool, so occasionally the accidents happened there. In one span of three days he peed his pants eight times, plus of course the daily weapons of mass destruction.
That was it. We were done. We are back in Pull-Ups after a YEAR of potty training. We are not typically prone to throwing in the towel on anything, but we are mentally and emotionally spent. This kid can stay in Pull-Ups until he’s thirty if he has to. Do you think Pull-Ups might condsider sponsoring me?!
He turns four in a few weeks and we’ve been saying that when he turns four he’ll be a “big boy” and have to use the potty all by himself. Maybe the stress of that date looming as been the cause of the accidents and his refusal to alert us to his urges. But honestly, I do not know what else to try. We could go back to ignoring it, or I could put sheets over everything, including the carpet and hardwood, and take off the pants again. Shudder.
Part of the problem, I THINK, is that he’s just so freaking adaptable. He’ll pretty much go along with any situation presented to him. It’s like his reality shifts and he moves on – “Oh. I have a poop in my pants the size of an avocado. This is my new reality. Okay. Now where are my trains?”
I just don’t know. This seems longer than ANY other potty training saga I have ever heard, but I have noticed that the only people that tend to talk about it are the ones that magically trained their kid in a week or two. I have a note for these people: KNOW YOUR AUDIENCE. If I am telling you that I have been dealing with puddles and poop for over a year, DO NOT tell me how exceptional your child is at managing his own bodily functions. I don’t want to hear it. That was a story for a year ago. Not for a parent that is at her wit’s end, envisioning her son going off to college with his Costco-sized box of training pants.
So there you have it. The long-winded update on the continuing saga of potty training in the House of Awesome. Or in this case, Not-So-Awesome.
Seriously, Pull-Ups…call me.