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Monday, September 28, 2009

The Potty Nazi

This blog is long overdue, and yet, isn't. Our potty story started with such excitement that even remembering the moment can almost bring me to tears. On Friday, Norma and Dylan called me at work with the glorious news that he had pooped on the potty! How wonderful! So, this weekend, in an effort to continue the process of potty training, we went to Babies R Us and bought a new Cars potty seat that Dylan himself picked out. And, although we didn't do much trying this weekend, I was sure that my intelligent, sensitive son would have no problem. I never considered that it would be me that would be completely incompetent.

Today when I arrived to daycare to pick up the boys, I was greeted with the news that while Dylan hadn't pooped at all, he was able to stay dry and pee on the potty all day. With a new sense of vigor, I was determined to keep this streak going at home. So, soon after we arrived home, I somehow morphed into a Potty Nazi that insisted on asking him if he needed to potty every five minutes. Well, wouldn't you know it, as soon as I sat him in his high chair for dinner, he wet his pants. Nope, he wasn't wearing a diaper, and as soon as he was done, I quickly realized that I had missed our moment. So, I changed him, and proceeded to push him to sit on the potty hoping that something would come out. At one point, he was sitting on the potty, I was sitting on the floor next to him, and Drew was leaning in the doorway. What pressure! Needless to say, within all of this potty commotion, he didn't pee again, and I quickly pushed both he and I to tears. In an effort to help him, I had caused him stress and pain by talking about pottying and how we didn't want to have accidents in our pants. Great job, mom. Great job.

All the while, Drew is following the two of us around in his calm motion. Don't be fooled, he wanted Dylan to go to the bathroom in the potty too, but somehow he realizes that it will come with time, not when I command it to. Surrounded by my stress, I wondered how a woman who is watching 5 other children other than my son can realize when he needs to pee, but me, a woman only focused on him, can miss it. It brought me to the understanding that no matter how much I push, the only thing I will do is hurt my son's feelings, and cause this process to be far more stressful than it has to be. Will I be cleaning up pee for the next couple of weeks, probably. Will I make my son cry again because I am stressing about it, never. The look in his eyes when he thought that I was disappointed in him will push me to that stress-free place that Drew is in, and I don't ever want to see that look again.

Someday, you will see a post where I proudly proclaim that we have made it through potty training, and while I am excited to be in that place, the road to get there will not be spotted with the landmines of disappointment. This road will be riddled with lessons, probably meant more for me than for Dylan and my goal is to make it through this journey learning more about motherhood than peeing on a potty.

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