Potty Training Updated

It’s been a little bit over a month now since we started potty training. Using the three-day method, we should have been totally done weeks ago. Right? Not quite.

H only wears diapers at night. But we go through several pairs of panties a day on average. There are some good days when she stays dry all day. There are many more days when we change panties almost every time she pees. At this point you may be wondering whether anything actually stuck when we potty trained. I might be getting her new panties, but very often there are only a few drops in her underwear. She’s still two. She understands the concept; she pees with regularity on the potty; she just doesn’t always give in to the urge to go before a few drops come out to remind her.

Believe me, it is very frustrating to have her answer the question, “Do you need to potty?” with a no when I can see her dancing from foot to foot, obviously about to pee herself. This has led to a substantial learning curve for me as a parent. When I see that behavior I automatically want to haul her in the bathroom and make her go. This impulse has resulted in toilet tantrums. There’s nothing like a half-naked toddler throwing herself willy-nilly off the toilet in an attempt to escape her evil mother. When this has happened both of us usually end up crying. Not really worth it.

We have high highs, like when she told me that she had to go potty when we were in the car driving from New Jersey to Delaware. She held it until I found a Wendy’s and went no problem. Then there are low lows, like when I was sitting next to her this afternoon and she peed in her bed for no apparent reason. Like I said, she’s two.

She’s doing well enough that going back to diapers doesn’t seem like a good course of action. Like everything else in her life, H will one day decide to focus her attention on this pee pee problem and it will cease being an issue. It’s on me and her dad to remain calm in the meantime. The girl has over 20 pairs of panties, and we have a brand spanking new washer and dryer. It’ll be fine.

I would still recommend the potty boot camp even though we clearly did not achieve the intended results. Whenever you decide to train, you have to learn to pay attention to your particular child’s subtle potty signs. That method is a really good way to do that.

I would also recommend the Primo Folding Potty Seat for on-the-go potty action. It folds up small enough that I keep it in what was formerly the wet/dry diaper bag. I stick it and any wet panties in the wet section and keep spare clothes in the dry section. It fits on virtually any toilet, is sturdy, and is easy to use. Most importantly, H will use it in public restrooms. Plus it’s only $10!

I’ll be sure to let you know when the day comes that we are totally trained. Just don’t hold your breath that it’ll be in 2011.

Boot Camp

Day 1

It was quite the bittersweet, anxious moment today when I put away all our cloth diapers for “the new baby.” (I’m not announcing anything. That was just our explanation to H.) They are all gone. All the wet bags, the diapers, the wipes, the liners, the diaper pail, and the changing pad. We have big girl panties.

In fact, at this moment, at the end of Day 1 of three-day potty training boot camp, there are many pairs of panties spinning in the dryer. We got a decent portion of pee at least mostly in the potty. This is pretty much what I expected. We have been working on the other for a long, long time, but pee is a new thing. It’s understandable that it might take some time to click.

We’re following the three day, get rid of your diapers, panties only method (kindly sent to me by a friend). I’ve heard several people attest that it does work. I’m waiting another two days until I pass judgment. The level of focus it requires is rather exhausting, but I just keep hoping that it will pay off. I’m going to be really bummed if I have to break those diapers back out.

Day 2

At the close of day 2 I am ready to throw in the towel. We caught one more pee than yesterday, but that’s still only 7 out of 13. She still hasn’t told us one time that she needs to go. I’ve just gotten a little better at spotting the signs.

This is supposed to be a three day system! If we’re two-thirds of the way through, shouldn’t she be picking it up by now? I called the friend who sent me the method and while she was very reassuring, her little one “clicked” basically on day 1. I am still determined, but so nervous. H is a child who does things at her own pace. She cannot be rushed. This doesn’t mean that she doesn’t show every single sign of readiness (except maybe night time dryness). Why is potty training not a logic problem? IF child shows signs of readiness, THEN child will train.

I am so frustrated that I totally understand why someone would just want to throw in the towel at this point. For some reason as parents we expect potty training to magically happen right when we want it to (probably because it’s so messy). What else do you teach your child that takes only a few days? It took her days to learn to fist bump. It took her 15 months to learn to walk. It took her most of a year to build up a vocabulary. Why would she learn to pee in the toilet in mere minutes? It’s crazy for me to expect her to get it so quickly. But I hate cleaning up pee ever so much.

This is how I know it’s time to cut everyone some slack.

Day 3

Things have vastly improved today. By no stretch would I claim that my child is now potty trained. My good friend, Ashley, a partner in potty training boot camp, sent me a great link today to the Mommypotamus blog. She talks about her adventures in the three-day method. Turns out it took close to two months for her daughter to be fully daytime trained. And as of the posting, was still not 100% at night. I have to say, reading this made me feel so much better. Especially when I read the comments and saw other moms writing in and saying that it took them more than three days as well.

This isn’t a race. If it was a race, it would be a marathon, not a sprint. And learning to pee on the pot when you’re awake and learning to let your bladder wake you are two very different skills. It’s a nice thought that you can do it all at once, but I’m not sure it’s going to work for us.

H still hasn’t really said she needed to potty. Once today she did run into the potty to go (without announcing her intentions), and we had some success with her acknowledging that she was going pee in the potty while she was up there. She was happy to pee in the pot, and she let me take her in when my spidey-sense started going off. It was a 9 out of 12 day, a big improvement for sure.

Naptime, however, was an utter disaster. My amazing husband took naptime and let me get some sleep undisturbed. He had to change the sheets twice, and H never actually got any sleep. Who can sleep in wet sheets? Her endless companion, Puppy, got not one but two baths today.

I am willing to give it the rest of the week for naptime and bedtime to see if we can get some improvement. She has woken from naptime dry on more than one occasion in the past, so I know it’s possible. H rarely goes straight to sleep at naptime, however, which gives her ample opportunity to pee before falling asleep. Same at bedtime. It’s a mystery, wrapped in pee soaked sheets.

Worst case scenario we break out diapers for naptime and bedtime. Not the perfect ideal I envisioned, but then, what part of raising a child turns out exactly as you thought? As always, I favor the solution that keeps everyone happy and well rested. Nobody (or almost nobody) goes to college still wetting the bed, so H will certainly figure it out. It’s more my issue of relaxing and letting her do it then it is her ability to learn.

Day 4

I have been reminded once again that I am not the brains of this operation. Those honors go to H. Today we had an even better day. She woke up dry from her nap and had very few accidents.

At 2:40am we were woken up with crying. H woke up because she had started to pee in her bed. At least this time she woke up. Before this she’d sleep right through it. Daddy rushed her to the potty, and she was able to finish in there. A change of sheets and she was dry when she woke up. Of course, we had checked her at 11:30pm and taken her in to try to pee. She was so out of it that she just wanted to get back in bed.

While we were thrilled that she was dry this morning, the idea of waking up in the middle of the night again is not so appealing. At naptime I tried to put a diaper on her and she said, “No.” She wanted to keep her panties on. Of course, she followed that up with a big girl performance of staying dry, so I couldn’t be more pleased.

Tonight at bedtime I asked her if she wanted to wear panties or a diaper. She said, “Panties!” You can’t argue with that. So much for me agonizing over whether we’d try nighttime diapers. H made the decision for us. In truth, we’ll have to see how she does over the next few nights. If we don’t get some improvement, we might have to go to diapers despite her protests. I don’t relish changing sheets every night at 3am.

While the past few days have had their difficult moments, I am glad that we decided to go this route. H may not be telling us she needs to go, but it’s becoming more and more obvious to us when she does need to go, and she’s getting used to the rhythm and routine of going to the potty (most of the time). It will probably be weeks or even a few months before I feel confident saying that she is potty trained, but I feel we’ve given her a good foundation.

PS: As I finished typing this, I heard Daddy rush upstairs and the sweet sound of pee tinkling in the potty. H yelled out for Mommy and was still dry when Daddy came to the rescue! Fingers crossed, people. Fingers crossed.

Potty Training - The Ugly

We went to a park with some friends today. I knew that H had yet to poop, so I was a bit nervous about what we would do if she decided that she wanted to go at the park. Not being one to be locked in the house, I threw an extra diaper in the bag and set out. We’re doing pretty well with potty training, but the idea of going someplace other than our house has not caught on. She wants to go, but she seems to have developed a preference for the little potty. Attempts at the big potty produce anxiety and tears. Any suggestions are welcome.

In the middle of a rousing game of chase Mommy, H gets that look and announces she needs to go. I ask frantically of the other moms, “Is there a bathroom?! Where is it?” They point, I scoop her up, and we walk very quickly to the bathroom.

This is a county park set up, so it’s an outdoor-type bathroom. The mirrors are actually shiny stainless steel sheets screwed into the wall. It’s clean enough, and there’s a changing station in the handicap stall. We head in. The toilet is also stainless steel with no seat. It reminds me of the type that might be installed in prison. I can already tell that this will not go well.

Regardless, I decide to give it the old college try. I pull down pants, strip off diaper, line the seat with tissue, and set her up there. After several attempts, it is clear that H wants no part of this strange metal potty. I can’t really blame her. But she does really want to finish her business. What a bizarre fix to be in—the best option is actually to tell her to just go in her diaper. Not that she understood me when I told her that. She understands a lot, but given these esoteric elimination options, her response is crying.

Finally I set her on the floor to set up the changing table. I feel that things might have gone better had I not been so supremely frustrated at that moment. Nothing to be done for it now—I set her down, half-turned, and she promptly tripped over the pants around her ankles and sat down, bare-assed on the county park, public bathroom floor. (Full body shiver of disgust.) My child is probably now infertile because of the germs on that floor. Goodbye grandchildren.

I scooped her up and wiped her quite thoroughly. She also got a good washing with nice hot water when we got home. The whole thing unnerved her enough that she didn’t finish her business until hours later—in her diaper.

I can only hope that in addition to completely traumatizing me, I have also traumatized my daughter and set back our potty training. In sum—I hate public restrooms.

The Other Shoe

It happens to every mom. What starts out as a routine bath/meal/diaper change turns into a circus. One small thing goes wrong and suddenly things snow ball out of control. You look up and wonder when your life turned into a sitcom and why you aren’t getting paid as well as Charlie Sheen. Your life is at least as interesting as Two and a Half Men, and that’s just laundry day.

For the past few weeks I’ve been letting Josh give H her bath while I wash the dishes from the day. With a bar sink and no dish washer, you really have to wash the dishes every day. Usually by the time 6:30 rolls around, I’m all parented out. I’ve been perfectly happy to let Dad take care of an easy and fun bath time. But tonight I was tired of dirty dishes and scalding hot water.

“I’ll do bath; you do dishes,” I say. Famous last words.

H gets her baths in an inflatable infant tub in the shower stall. Obviously. I toss the tub in, turn on the water, and stand there a few moments to make sure the temperature was ok. One of the many quirky details of life in Altus, America is that the shower has a one-eighth inch area of the temperature gauge that is warm but not scalding. Anything above that prescribed zone will burn your skin off; anything below will freeze you to death.

Showers, being the fascinating machines they are, interest H. When she discovered I had the water on, she comes right over and tries to climb in the tub. We’ve let her get in while the tub fills a few times. This has eliminated any qualms she feels about climbing in while the water is on. If she were naked already, then there would be no problem. But she was fully clothed. Thankfully only the burp cloth got soaked.

Meanwhile, H was stinking to high heaven. Poopy diaper off and baby naked, we were ready for bath time. Cloth diapers being what they are, the dirty diaper needed a trip to the bathroom to dispose of the nastiness. As I walk into the bathroom ahead of H, the dirty diaper in my hand swings and a single clump of poo falls to the floor. “Shit,” I think, no pun intended. Immediately I turn to H, who was following me, and say firmly, “Stop!” The last thing I want is for her to a) step in it or b) pick it up.

Dutifully H stops in the door to the bathroom, naked as a jay bird. And promptly pees.

I stand there, momentarily frozen, with a full diaper in one hand, poo on the floor, and a baby peeing on the floor of my hotel room—only most of it on the tile. My eyes dart to the toilet paper holder. Can I quickly get some toilet paper to scoop up the poo? No, I cannot. Half of a sheet of paper clings to the brown cardboard tube, mocking me. (This is almost certainly my own fault, brought about by my passive aggressive hatred of this place.)

I scream for back up, and Josh comes running. I drop the dirty diaper on the floor, scoop up the recently peeing child and deposit her in the tub to play safely while we clean up the mess.

Josh mops up the pee with a wash cloth. (This is not my first choice, but I’m not about to complain. “Pee is sterile,” he reminds me.) I use the remaining half a square of toilet paper to grab the poo off the floor. Next I turn the diaper out over the toilet (the joys of cloth). Sadly, this is one of those occasions where a squirmy baby equals poo that eludes the carefully placed diaper liner. More personalized attention is required to jiggle, scrape, and dunk the diaper.

In the middle of this process I realize that I still haven’t gotten a new roll of toilet paper. I grab the generic paper off the back of the toilet and gamely try to take the wrapper off of it with one hand while holding the dirty diaper over the toilet with the other. Just as I succeed in this feat of one-handed gymnastics I turn to check on H and see this:

Yes, that’s right. She was holding a leather shoe when she peed on the floor. And I neglected to remove it from her hand when I dropped her in the tub. It is now a bath toy. She dips it in the water, lifting and watching the water pour out of the Mary Jane.

It’s at this moment that you can choose to laugh or cry. Given all the trials we’ve been through in these two small rooms, I really wanted to cry. Josh looked at me just then, his eyes dancing, and he laughed as he said, “You’ve got to laugh.” So we did.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat

I’m a cloth convert for sure. I tried cloth diapers over the summer and came to like them a lot. If you’re a friend on Facebook, you can read all about my cloth diaper trial in my notes (pre-blog, you know). I’m sure there will be a post about the virtues of cloth sometime soon, but for now, I’m going to share with you the glamour of being an Air Force wife. I have come to realize that cloth diapering only really works when you have your own washer and dryer. Laundry rooms—not so much.

Another fun aspect, giving H a bath in the blow-up tub in the shower stall.

On our recent stay in Altus, America we had the good fortune to have our family together—three of us in two small rooms. When I say small, I mean the entire dorm could fit inside my living room with room to spare. Really, I could fill entire blog entries with the dorms here and how they could be improved (blowing them up is one option).

Thankfully the Air Force does provide a free laundry room for their dorms. If this story involved rolls and rolls quarters, it would take on horrifically annoying proportions.

Normally, we get H in bed and take the wet bag downstairs; we do one quick load of laundry, dry, and they’re ready in the morning. Herein lies my first problem. H sleeps in the living room. There isn’t actually room for her pack and play in the bedroom. I might be able to slip past her once or twice to wash the diapers, assuming she sleeps through the draft and squeaking door. But washing diapers here involves four round trips.

The washers have no pre-rinse cycle and no second rinse option. Round 1: Empty wet bag into machine and run a light wash with cold water. Round 2: Add soap and run an extra clean wash on hot water. Round 3: Run a normal cold wash to finish rinsing. Round 4: Transfer to the dryer. Total time: At least 2.5 hours.

If everyone had to wash diapers this way, no one would do it.

Diaper wash has to be done during the day, which means that it usually takes much more than 2.5 hours because in the middle of it we have to go to story time, get the mail, or take naps. I’m usually on the last clean diaper by the time the wash is actually done.

Part of me is tempted to go out and get some disposables. The wash is the only problem that would solve. I’ve discovered that my little 12-14 hour sleeper has a bladder capacity larger than the average disposable diaper’s absorption ability. Every time she sleeps in a disposable, she, the PJs, and the sheets are wet in the morning. A solution that translates into a daily load of laundry is not helpful. This brings us back to square one.

For the time being all we can do is adapt and be flexible. Flexibility, after all, is the key to air power (those of you who know me well know the right mix of humor, annoyance, and long-suffering this phrase evokes).

With quite a bit of travel planned for 2011, this little adventure gives me food for thought. It seems to me there’s only one way to avoid this problem in the future: potty training. Oh, boy.