The War has been won!
21 Jul 2011 Leave a Comment
Okay. It’s been about a month now so I’m somewhat confident I can post this. I think we are finally through potty training. Oh my gosh…I actually held my breath as I typed, terrified I may jinx myself. Let’s hope my child doesn’t read this blog and discover my sheer joy and excitement over the fact she now uses a real toilet. I think I’m in the clear…she still can’t tell the difference between the letter S and the number 2. But you never know what they’re teaching them on Nick Jr. these days. She can already hold short conversations with our downstairs buddy, Juan Carlos, thanks to Dora and Diego. Hola, amigo.
I have to give credit where credit is due: a huge thanks to my bestie, Tara, who sent me a very helpful article about fear of potty-training being caused partly by a need for control and partly by separation anxiety. Yes, separation anxiety over losing your poo. Out of your body. Gone forever. Brings a tear to your eye, doesn’t it? Really??? Yes…my strong-willed child who would hold her poop for days, negotiate her way out of pooping and into getting snacks anyway, and would scream at the top of her lungs that “It’s not FAIR!!!” when I made her sit on the potty was sad to let go of the poo. I know that sounds CRAZY, but when I actually considered helping her through the anxiety…voila! Potty trained!
So here’s my little speech playing to her little hearts concern over what happens to the poo:
“Hannah, when you say your belly hurts that’s because you have to poo-poo. The Poo-Poo (capitalized because he has now achieved a human persona)…the Poo-Poo wants to come out of your belly so he can go in the potty and get flushed. When you feel your belly hurting, that’s the Poo-Poo knocking on your tummy to tell you he needs to come out. Once you flush the Poo-Poo down the potty he gets to go to a poo-poo party (something like a birthday party?) with ALL his poo-poo friends.”
Okay, now I’m the crazy one.
Her response made me almost poo my own pants, and thankfully I did not, as that would have been somewhat counter-productive to my goal. She SMILED. No tears, no cries, no screams. Absolutely no defiance whatsoever! In fact, her little eyes gleamed with excitement as she climbed on the potty and asked me all sorts of questions. Why did the Poo-Poo live in her belly? Can he swim? What does he do at the poo-poo party? Will he be sad if he can’t see his friends? Do they have cake at their party? And then, my friends, Mr. Poo-Poo got to attend what only Hannah and I could have imagined to be a grand fiesta! (because of course, he speaks Spanish like Juan Carlos and Dora)
Whose crazy now?
She has done so well since that night! I am very proud! She never wears pull-ups, even at bedtime. She sometimes goes without me reminding her, or even better, she reminds ME. And she has only had one accident. ONE. In a month. About which she informed me that it was not she who pooped her pants, it was someone else. When I asked who, she blamed her cousin Jayden. Of course, nevermind he wasn’t even with her that day, she blames him for everything.
