Nightmare on Potty Street
I’ve been trying hard not to write about the misadventures of Belle’s potty training. Partly because I don’t want to infringe on her privacy too terribly much (sharing details of her speech impediments and hair length somehow don’t seem as invasive) and partly because…borrrring. Who wants to hear about another kids’ potty saga?
But I have to give up the dirt. She’s killing me here.
First, a little background. The girl trained herself at the age of two and used the toilet like a reasonable person would for about a year. And then she regressed. Big time. She’s now four-and-a-half and for the past forever we’ve had to remind her, cajole her, reward her, punish her, praise her, etcetera, to convince her to eliminate like a big kid. Which means, to not have two to three accidents a day because she can’t be bothered to seek out the bathroom.
We’ve tried everything. Our current approach is to pretend we’re not remotely confused or annoyed, help her change, gently remind her to listen to her body and then go about our day. We’re taking the mellow route because for a while it seemed that her unwillingness to use the potty and our frustration caused power struggles.
Mostly, I just quietly deal with the frequent accidents and extra laundry and nearly chew my lips off trying not to yelp out expletives and accusations.
This week, though, she got a bladder infection (not her first), which entailed a lot of discomfort for her and some worry for me. The pediatrician had a big talk with Belle, about the importance of peeing often and how holding it in can cause infection. Belle listened. I could tell.
And I thought maybe things would be different.
But today I caught the same old Belle trying to unsuccessfully hide the same old wet undies.
When I talk to other parents about Belle’s shunning of the potty, they’ll say, “Oh yeah, my daughter went through that phase.” Then they add, “For about two weeks.”
We’re going on two years of this absurdity and if there’s a hair left in my head by her fifth birthday, I’ll be surprised.
If not, her gift will be a port-a-potty—where she’ll be living until she’s approximately 18.
