Over the past few months, as we've fought, off and on, with Gabe's potty training, we've often lamented to other parents about the ordeal it had become. Invariably, we were met with one response: "When he's ready, it will just sort of happen."
Because I am a very polite person, I always replied, "It needs to goddamn happen, goddamn soon, then," and the other parents nodded knowingly and we moved on to the next bitch-worthy topic. But, despite my gracious and urbane demeanor, I always secretly scoffed at this little bit of advice. See, I had been burned before by seemingly well-meaning and helpful parents who were passing on their hard-earned wisdom.
There is a long list of advice that parents will give other parents, or prospective parents, that should ALWAYS be received with equal parts skepticism and cynicism. See, one thing that few parents will admit to others is that the old adage "misery loves company" is never more alive and well than in the parenting game, and they will use a series of half-truths and rose-colored adages to convince others to join in their pain. There are a range of reasons why parents do this--ranging from jealousy to basic stupidity, and covering several options in between--but we needn't go into that here. Books could be written on the subject (and, if because of my suggesting it, one is, I expect at least a mention in the Thank Yous at the end).
For instance, before we had kids, all we ever heard from anyone was that having kids was the greatest thing ever. Everything about having kids was wonderful. If anything even mildly negative was let slip, it was always suffixed with "But it's totally worth it." Never was the fact that sleep would be a stranger for multiple YEARS mentioned, or that having kids would make doing anything even remotely fun an ordeal (and, in fact, most things are done for the KIDS to have fun, never the parents because, frankly, the parents are too caught up trying to make sure the kids stay safe and out of everyone else's hair to even let their guard down for a few minutes).
But, to anyone out there who doesn't have kids but is considering it, it's totally worth it. No, seriously. Frustrating as hell at times, but worth it. You'll want to pull your hair out (what little you have left, because the years of not sleeping, eating properly, or exercising will take a pretty terrible toll on your body) at times, but who needs hair when you're already old and haggard, right?
(Side Story: I've been working on this post off and on through the morning--whenever the kids have been sufficiently entertained on their own to allow me to break away for a few minutes. As I was working a little while ago, Gabe came down the stairs--he'd been watching a movie upstairs--and said, "I need to pee pee in the potty." For the time being, this translates as "I already pee peed in my pants and want to sit on the toilet for two seconds then have you put some new clothes on me." So I led him into the bathroom and pulled down his pants to find a lump of smushy poop in his underwear--and now spread down his leg since I didn't notice it before taking his clothes off. He still has NO interest in crapping in the toilet, and, in fact, doesn't seem to even recognize the fact that he needs to poop or even HAS pooped. So we've been leaving him in a diaper in the morning until he has his poop then moving to underwear. He's usually a one-poop-a-day kind of guy, so we're usually safe doing this. Except this morning.
So, anyway, I tell him to stand still in the bathroom so I can get some wipes and clean him up. I ask him to bend over so I can get him wiped and get to cleaning. As I'm doing so, I explain to him that he MUST try to tell me BEFORE he poops so we can do it on the toilet too, and he replies, "It's all part of the plan."
This, I should note, is the catch phrase of Special Agent Oso on the pre-K show on Disney in the mornings, so the fact that he said it wasn't all that interesting. The CONTEXT, though, has me a little worried.)
Then, after we had our first kid well established and started thinking about a second, we were again bombarded with helpful advice from everyone who'd already had their second kid. "Having two kids is actually easier than having just one," they swore. "They entertain each other and make the day-to-day caring of them MUCH easier!" "Well," we thought, "we certainly like easier."
What these parents failed to mention, however, is that the "easier" part doesn't start to happen until the youngest child is getting around the house freely and is capable of offering mild entertainment to the older child. We are JUST starting to see this happen, almost a full year later. So, technically, what these parents said was true, they just failed to mention the entire year in between the child's birth and it becoming a semi-productive member of the household, which is filled with entertaining TWO children instead of just one.
And on and on. Just about any sunny-dispositioned load of bull pucky parents can feed another parent, they will feed. I guess it's just the nature of the game (and I know for damn sure that, given the opportunity, I'll inflict the same nearly-bogus information onto other unsuspecting saps--it's what they deserve for listening to my advice instead of just going with their own guts, as far as I'm concerned!).
So, naturally, I just figured this one about potty training was a bunch of diaper filling crap, too. It didn't stand to reason that a kid would just "know" when they were ready and start cooperating accordingly. Our kid doesn't "know" not to jump head first off the couch, and basic survival skills seem like they would trump hygiene skills.
But, over the past few days, Gabe has begun to show an understanding of, and appreciation for, the toilet using process. Obviously, as my side story illustrated, we've got a LONG way to go before potty training becomes less work than changing a diaper every couple hours, but there are marked signs of improvement, which was something I was convinced we would never see (remember, not too long ago, I was sure that Gabe would be wearing diapers in middle school), and it's all been Gabe's doing.
Sunday, quite out of the blue, he decided that he wanted to wear underwear and didn't want to have ANYTHING to do with a diaper. So we obliged. He still isn't very good at telling us when he needs to go, so hopefully that's something that will develop (because I don't fancy asking him every hour if he needs to pee pee until he gets into middle school--imagine the cell phone disturbances as I ask him in the middle of his classes throughout each day, if nothing else), but he managed to stay totally dry Sunday and yesterday because I asked him every hour if he needed to go and made him sit on the toilet every two hours whether he thought he needed to or not. And he was VERY proud of sticking with it--enough so that I think it made a real connection in his brain between being a big boy and using the toilet.
So, you know, hurray. I look forward to spending about $70 a month less on diapers. Maybe I can put the money into a savings account so I can use it to pay for his cell charges in middle school.
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