This morning I woke up (at 8:30am) to Sophia yelling “Owies! Owies! Momma come change the diaper?” I thought that might be the “sign” I needed that we should continue on with panties and potty-training and turmoil. I got out of bed with a weight in my stomach but went to get her, planning to change her into a pair of panties. She was happy to see me and wanted to go play Legos immediately. I told her that we needed to change her diaper first. She happily said “Sophia gets to wear panties? Keiki ones?” Someone gave us a book on counting in Hawaiian and there’s a “keiki” in it (Hawaiian for “child”); when I identified the girl on Sophia’s new panties as Strawberry Shortcake, Sophia began calling her “Keiki” (short for Cake?). I told her that she needed to go potty first, and then she could put on her Keiki panties. She looked almost scared and said “No! No potty. No!” So I asked her if she wanted to just put on her diaper instead, so that she could pee in the diaper. She didn’t hesitate, said “okay,” and got down on to the change pad.
I was so relieved to start the day with a fresh diaper. This meant that we could plan to go to the park together, and maybe even the grocery store, like we used to (I can't believe I'm getting nostalgic about a trip to the grocery store!)! And I could relax and wouldn’t have to spend so many ten-minute blocks huddled on the bathroom floor next to her little potty, one arm around Sophia and the other supporting Are you my Mother? or I Have to Go! or Mr. Brown can Moo, Can You? or Once Upon a Potty. She was totally content to get dressed and go on with her day. And so was I.
By the time we were en route to the park, it was as if the last three days had never happened. We were back in sync, laughing and singing and totally relaxed. I was shocked when she got out of the stroller, took a few steps, and then stopped. I asked her if she was pooping and she said “yeah… pee pees.” And then she looked down at the ground between her legs, as if she was expecting to see the pee pooling there. My heart sank. She had learned something in the last three days! And just now, we undid it. The reinforcement she probably needed just disappeared. It was probably a big mistake to put the diaper back on today. I feel like I can’t trust my judgment on this at all. I feel so lost!
We played for a while at the park, but she was very clingy. She wanted to hold my hand for everything. Since we started potty-training she’s been more clingy around the house, too. And she asks Ben for me, which is shocking, as she totally adores him and can’t get enough of him usually. I chose to take note of the change, but not dwell on it and enjoy the time outside to play closely together. As we were leaving the park, I noticed a large yellow butterfly flying near the path. I pointed it out to Sophia and squatted down next to her stroller so that our eyes were at the same level. We stayed like that for several minutes, taking turns pointing and exclaiming “it’s coming to us!” She said that she wanted to catch it and hold it and she asked me to get it for her. Something about the beauty of that moment made me want to burst. It was as if time had no meaning and the butterfly had called us to join in an unimportant and yet deeply good dance. And Sophia and I were on the same side again. We were watching, sharing, loving together. I got her out of her stroller and we chased the butterfly a bit, walking around in circles, looking up instead of looking where we were going. We let ourselves get lost in the beauty and it felt like perfect freedom… freedom which ended abruptly when Sophia said “Sophia needs carrots. Go home?” But I was reset and re-filled and somehow rested.
There’s been no more talk of panties today, but at a couple of diaper changes Sophia has insisted that she wanted to go potty, so we let her run to her potty, bare-bottomed, and sit there with her books by herself for a while. Eventually she’d say “all done!” and wash her hands and leave her empty potty to come back for her fresh diaper. A few times she announced “Sophia has gasses!” and I thanked her for telling me, and warning me before they came out. I still don’t feel totally good about going back to diapers, but I feel much better than I did when I was fighting with her to use the potty. There must be a better way to do all of this, and I’m determined to seek it out before our next try at this. Maybe it will be a gradual thing… maybe Sophia will show us a gentle way. Or maybe I’ll find some strength somewhere.
A couple of nights ago I read the two-page section on Toilet-training in our copy of Parenting with Love and Logic. It made me feel better and worse. Better, because they described exactly what Sophia was doing, so I don’t blame myself as much for Sophia’s behavior – it seems to be quite common:
All that hassle just getting kids onto the potty chair? Then when we get them there, you’d think they’d go, right? Think again. They sit there for a few seconds and then stand right up, declare, “All done!” and head off to the corner of the living room and do their dirty work there.
Worse, because their solution – to keep things happy and light – is what I’ve already been trying to do, but it isn't helping her to pee in the potty. Maybe Sophia can tell that I’m faking it. Maybe I should have a shot of whisky every few hours just to keep things loose and light (just kidding!). I honestly think the best solution for me would be to go camping for a week – or to a friend’s farm – and let Sophia run around naked, getting used to pee running down her legs and how it feels just before that happens.
I don’t know why this whole process is so upsetting to me… maybe it’s the first thing that I feel like I really can’t help her to do…? I remember feeling like I couldn’t teach her to sleep, either. But I could close my eyes, slow my breathing, and try to lie absolutely still – and tell myself that she’d follow my example. I’ve been peeing on the potty with her, but that doesn’t seem to help at all. I’m hoping that taking some time off will be good for me, and in turn, be good for her. I’ll update you as anything potty-related comes up -- or down, as it were.
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