The competition starts early, before you realize what you are doing. The innocent child sees a nice, level world, where the only inconsistencies are happiness turning into fear, and then back to happiness. Everything else is equal. Until you start in with the poison:
"Why don't you go sit on the potty chair?"
"No, fanksoo."
"Well, that's very polite of you, but you should really go sit on the potty chair."
"No fanksoo. I don't haffta."
"Does your friend ___ use the potty?"
"Uh-huh."
What about ___? Does he use the potty?"
"Uh-huh."
"You know what that means? That means they are big kids. You will never be a big kid if you don't use the potty."
"I'm just a little girl!"
"Yes, and you shouldn't be happy about it. Your friends are better than you."
Really? Is that the approach I want to take? I can't imagine being proud, when I watch my daughter become a heartless cutthroat social monster, to realize that I started it all by telling her that if she doesn't hop up there and drop a deuce in the toilet like her friends, she is no longer worthy of my love. Then again, I am willing to bet that a lot of parents, by the time their children are two or three years old, are already saying things to them like:
"You know, a liberal would have killed you before you were born, because liberals hate children, Jesus, and your mommy."
Or:
"You know, a conservative would have sold you by now just to make a buck, because conservatives hate children, the poor, and your mommy."
I'm sticking with:
"You know, we love you no matter what you do, but it is a little harder when you have your hand in your butt crack like that."
13 comments:
Whatever approach you used, it seems to have worked! M&Ms perhaps?
Shes getting there, but not quite yet.
The M&Ms only worked in the beginning. She is impervious to bribery now, which limits her career paths to...Shit, she's honest, so I guess she's screwed.
My eldest and youngest breezed through the transition from diapers to toilet, the middle child was not having any of it.
While he mastered hitting the floating cheerios with no problem, he insisted that I put him in a diaper for taking care of the nasty end of his digestive tract. Two years old and throwing a fit, me giving in, him hiding behind a chair while he grunted and groaned, me wiping up man size poops that should have been swirling down the pipes.
I finally decided there was no way in hell I was cleaning up any more of his excrement, sat him on the toilet after he asked for his diaper one morning and let him scream until the deed was done. We were in there for an hour until he let go, after that miserable trial he used the toilet without any problems.
Sometimes you've got to draw a line in the sand and move their little minds on down the road.
I've heard a lot of people say "My little one isn't showing any interest, so we're not pushing the potty training right now."
Screw that. Mine wasn't showing any interest, either. But I was sure as hell interested in getting her trained, and I wasn't going to wait around for her to walk up to me and tell me she would be happy to give it a shot now. Who is roping this damned goat, anyway?
Rope the goat, Andy.
You have a thousand more diapers heading your way.
I'm not gonna go here in any meaningful way, coz I have SIGNIFICANT issues with the way my ex- handled potty training. Suffice to say I had to live with the fall-out (heh) when the boy visited with me when he was FIVE frickin' years old. I kid thee not. Liberals have more issues than just simple politics, believe me.
Stay with the program, Andy.
Staying with it, and ropin' the goat. She had a stellar day at the nanny's house today, with three successful trips.
Liberals have an honorable intent to respect the individual, but that philosophy sometimes has the unintended consequences of stalling progress in favor of minimizing personal discomfort. The thought is that forcing a child to do something will somehow damage him, when the fact is that we, as adults, have been living this long accumulating the wisdom that entitles us to force them into something for which they don't understand the importance.
Twin B was just not getting it. I had kept the two of them diaperless and kept an eye out for all signs of panic. Usually, I got Twin A to comply without bribery, but Twin B was so panicked she voided on me as I put her on the throne. Irksome Middle was a breeze to teach, and she mastered the toilet by 18 months. It was the other thing that took forever to get her to do for herself: After each visit to the toilet, she would scream "WIPE!" only it was drawn out like this: "WIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPE!" And her voice pitch was at a frequency that induced insanity in most adults.
Working with the Russian immigrants, I noticed how they taught their babies to go to the bathroom. It usually started at 6 months of age, when you can comfortably hold the baby like a football. After mamochka would check the diaper, she would get warm water running in the bathroom sink, soak a hand towel in it, she would squeeze warm water over the baby's bum as he widdled into the toilet. She kept doing it until he either did a number two, or widdled again.
They really knew how to make the diapers last, those Russian mamas.
Oh, and Buck, I meant to say: FIVE!?!? FUCKING FIVE?!? Mine's 2 1/2 and I feel like I waited too damned long.
The Russians hate babies, too, by the way. They get mad that babies look so much like potatoes, but can't be turned into vodka.
FIVE!?!? FUCKING FIVE?!?
Yup. Now you know why I had issues. That was frickin' inexcusable.
Andy, I read this post right after you put it up. As the father of four (boys), it really made me chuckle.
I didn't comment, just waited for others to do so.
Everybody has their own approach. I was extremely happy with the way my wife trained ours. But, some learn slower than others...especially about wiping...one of mine had daisies until he was about 7 years old. But, he is mildly retarded, and things come slow to him.
Dude, I am glad it's you, and not me.
That's good stuff, though.
Oh, and by the way, I think your blog is epic. Nyuk...
Well, you have special challenges there, and expectations have to be calibrated to suit. Knowing the stentorian task of raising a so-called "normal" child, I marvel at the heart, patience, and kindness of parents who have children with any obstacles to learning.
You can understand the words when you hear someone say "children teach us more about ourselves than anything else," but until you've been changed by a child, you just don't know.
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