Wouldn’t you think for someone who raised three children, who all use restrooms, that potty training would be an easy task?
Not really.
Our granddaughter, having turned 2, should be ready, biologically and mentally, for the big bathroom adventure.
So far, Kelbi Lynne shows no interest in any part of sitting on the toilet, except flushing. If you let her, she flushes, and flushes.
The adults in her life are all ready to stop diapering. Both households have pretty panties on hand. Princess panties. It’s common knowledge that little girls and boys crave the day when they get out of diapers into big-girl and big-boy underwear.
But the problem with that theory is that Kelbi doesn’t go to preschool and has no playmates or older siblings to watch use the loo. There is no role model in the pretty panty peer department.
Preparation includes a case of pull-ups at each household. Those are in-between stage garments that are easily pulled up and down, apparently. We didn’t have them in the Stone Age when we ran big diaper pins through our hair to get a slick pierce through cotton squares.
New-fangled pull-up underdrawers look and feel like diapers. I haven’t figured out how the toddler understands this is transitional apparel.
Training is a messy project, as I recall. We started by putting the child in Sears underwear. When tinkle unexpectedly went down the pant leg, one washed soiled tennis shoes over and over again. There is nothing as joyful as the sound of damp sneakers beating up the innards of a dryer.
One keeps carpet cleaning supplies on hand. Visiting the restroom becomes the hot topic all day long.
“Do you have to go potty?” we ask in the kitchen.
“Should you go potty?” we ask in a store.
“Would you like to go potty before we get into the car?”
And you haul around a little plastic ring that fits on big seats in Target restrooms. That’s what we used to do. Kids don’t like hanging on the front edge for dear life or falling inside the throne.
Ladies, you know the feeling, when a man forgets to put the seat down and it’s the middle of the night. Nothing wakes you faster than cold, damp porcelain.
On a recent television talk show, the topic was potty training. I was all ears. One said to let little boys aim at Cheerios in the bowl.
“Sink that one, Freddie.”
Others said a reward system is the only sure-fire method. Keep a dish of candy in the bathroom and the child gets one piece with each success.
At our house, we have a talking book about Elmo going potty. Kelbi is placed on the seat and her Grampie sits on the edge of the tub reading the Elmo book, over and over. She loves the informative story, but so far, it’s only play time.
I stand firm on one notion.
Don’t train kids on the little portable potties. Why train on the little plastic apparatuses, only to then train to the big-people pot? That never made sense to me. And I never wanted to empty and clean the kiddy toilets.
Children will get the hang of going number one, but number two can be weeks, months or even years away.
Please share your potty training tips and tales.
Columnist Kristi O’Harran: 425-339-3451 or oharran@heraldnet.com.
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