Stooping to new lows...(now with added parental guilt)
If there is one thing I can hold my head proudly and say, in this land of mommy bloggers, it is that I've withheld from discussions of my child's poop at least 90 percent of the time. In fact, I think that I've talked more about my cat's problematic bowel habits much more than I have my own kids. And, that's saying something, I think.
Have I resorted in lame attempts at humor regarding a cheesy reality show by way of Haiku? Yes! Guilty! (I am also guilty here of being link crazy, aren't I?) Have I discussed the color, consistencey, or experiences with my wee ones poopy? No, sir. I have not!
But, since my blogging has been so lackluster and yawn-inducing lately, or more aptly non-existant, I figure that a good poop discussion is in order.
Folks, I am in potty training hell. No, wait. I'm not even to the depths of PT hell. Why? Because my three-year-old daughter refuses to potty at all. She is fully capable of using the potty and has on very random occasions. I suspect this is the only sort of power the wee ones can hold over us as parents. And, I should appreciate the fact that she's using her power in great ways to toy with me. I should look at this and see a future lawyer, politician, or political activist.
But, I don't appreciate it at all. In fact, it is really starting to tick me off.
Last week, two nights in a row, she sat on the potty and went. Yes, I will admit that a hearty bribery of Easter candy was administered to produce the output received, but it WORKED. I really don't mind stooping to bribery at this point. We have too much Easter candy and doling it out for pee-pee and poo-poo just gets rid of it faster AND gets me one step closer to the promise land. A land where I don't have to pay $17.99 for a jumbo pack of Huggies Supremes.
I am SICK TO DEATH of diapers! To be perfectly blunt and crude, I have told my husband that if I have to wipe one more arse other than my own, I may just go certifiable.
If my daughter was really not ready to train, I would not be pushing. I have not pushed at all until now--thinking, I'll wait until she's ready OR until she is three. The ready never came and the third birthday has come and gone. And, I KNOW that we have a whole summer that she can learn. But, she is ready and capable. And,I know also that now she is testing me. And, I am failing miserably. I am playing right into her freshly coated candy-sticky fingers.
I've now resorted to even bigger bribes. "Do you want to take gymnastics with your friends? Well, you have to be potty-trained to do that. You can't wear baby diapers." (It is true, I didn't make that up...but it's not going to get me the Parent of the Year award for being that negative now, is it?)
"Want some M&Ms? If you go potty, you can have a WHOLE BUNCH!"
"Don't you want to be a big girl, like yadda, yadda or yadda?""
"I will buy you Princess panties if you go pee-pee. Any princess you want! How about all the princesses? Strawberry Shortcake? Dora? Nemo? Sure!" (My daughter will soon be the Imelda Marcos of the 3T panty world.)
I am not looking for condemnation here or criticism. I've already been called out on my poor Haiku counting skills by some dear soul too afraid to leave his/her name. I don't think I can handle being told I'm a bad potty trainer too. (I kid!)
Nor, am I needing answers. You don't need to know the next move when your 3-year-old holds the cards. And, she's holding them, my friends. She's holding them and she knows when to fold them. Yes, I'm just along for the ride. And, boy...do I feel like the Joker about now.
----------
UPDATE:
Little did I know that as I was typing this post, while my daughter played in her bath just feet away, that she would again show me she held the trump. A quick call from her and I would see that she'd gotten out of her tub by herself and made it to her potty stool before she had an accident.
Oh my stars! A GLIMMER of hope--she tried on her OWN! (And, thankfully she didn't crack her head on the tile!)
But, more than that glimmer, a shining beam of GUILT falls on me for this post! Sigh...
Have I resorted in lame attempts at humor regarding a cheesy reality show by way of Haiku? Yes! Guilty! (I am also guilty here of being link crazy, aren't I?) Have I discussed the color, consistencey, or experiences with my wee ones poopy? No, sir. I have not!
But, since my blogging has been so lackluster and yawn-inducing lately, or more aptly non-existant, I figure that a good poop discussion is in order.
Folks, I am in potty training hell. No, wait. I'm not even to the depths of PT hell. Why? Because my three-year-old daughter refuses to potty at all. She is fully capable of using the potty and has on very random occasions. I suspect this is the only sort of power the wee ones can hold over us as parents. And, I should appreciate the fact that she's using her power in great ways to toy with me. I should look at this and see a future lawyer, politician, or political activist.
But, I don't appreciate it at all. In fact, it is really starting to tick me off.
Last week, two nights in a row, she sat on the potty and went. Yes, I will admit that a hearty bribery of Easter candy was administered to produce the output received, but it WORKED. I really don't mind stooping to bribery at this point. We have too much Easter candy and doling it out for pee-pee and poo-poo just gets rid of it faster AND gets me one step closer to the promise land. A land where I don't have to pay $17.99 for a jumbo pack of Huggies Supremes.
I am SICK TO DEATH of diapers! To be perfectly blunt and crude, I have told my husband that if I have to wipe one more arse other than my own, I may just go certifiable.
If my daughter was really not ready to train, I would not be pushing. I have not pushed at all until now--thinking, I'll wait until she's ready OR until she is three. The ready never came and the third birthday has come and gone. And, I KNOW that we have a whole summer that she can learn. But, she is ready and capable. And,I know also that now she is testing me. And, I am failing miserably. I am playing right into her freshly coated candy-sticky fingers.
I've now resorted to even bigger bribes. "Do you want to take gymnastics with your friends? Well, you have to be potty-trained to do that. You can't wear baby diapers." (It is true, I didn't make that up...but it's not going to get me the Parent of the Year award for being that negative now, is it?)
"Want some M&Ms? If you go potty, you can have a WHOLE BUNCH!"
"Don't you want to be a big girl, like yadda, yadda or yadda?""
"I will buy you Princess panties if you go pee-pee. Any princess you want! How about all the princesses? Strawberry Shortcake? Dora? Nemo? Sure!" (My daughter will soon be the Imelda Marcos of the 3T panty world.)
I am not looking for condemnation here or criticism. I've already been called out on my poor Haiku counting skills by some dear soul too afraid to leave his/her name. I don't think I can handle being told I'm a bad potty trainer too. (I kid!)
Nor, am I needing answers. You don't need to know the next move when your 3-year-old holds the cards. And, she's holding them, my friends. She's holding them and she knows when to fold them. Yes, I'm just along for the ride. And, boy...do I feel like the Joker about now.
----------
UPDATE:
Little did I know that as I was typing this post, while my daughter played in her bath just feet away, that she would again show me she held the trump. A quick call from her and I would see that she'd gotten out of her tub by herself and made it to her potty stool before she had an accident.
Oh my stars! A GLIMMER of hope--she tried on her OWN! (And, thankfully she didn't crack her head on the tile!)
But, more than that glimmer, a shining beam of GUILT falls on me for this post! Sigh...
Labels: kids;potty-training hell
posted by Crazy MomCat @ 7:41 PM
2 Comments:
A doctor once told me that there are 3 things you can't force a child to do: eat, sleep or poop. (I proved him wrong) I feel your pain. With my oldest boy, he was perfectly capable of controlling when he went, he just didn't want to sit on the pot. I read all the books that said to "wait for him to be ready" and all that crap (excuse the pun) and lo and behold he was still in diapers at 4. My third son was born around that time and I finally cracked from having 3 in diapers so I finally just took the diapers away. I refused to put them on him even when he screamed. He held it in for 3 days and finally gave in and after that, he was done with diapers. At the time I felt guilty for "forcing" him but it paid in the end. My 2nd two were out of diapers by 2 and a half...I'm not as nice as I used to be ;-)
Good luck!!!
oh, the princess panties sound cute! And I like how your blogging about it caused her to prove you wrong... not that I'm saying I want to read about her poop every day. ;)
btw, any butterfly cakes or "dora disasters" for her birthday?
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