Just Call Me “Prissy” and Look For Me on Dr. Phil

“Lawzy, we got to have a profesh’nal. I don’t know nothin’ ’bout potty trainin’ toddlers.” Well, if Prissy didn’t know how to birth babies, I feel certain that potty training toddlers would have sent her over the edge, so I took a little poetic license.

Tater Tot turned two (how ’bout that alliteration!) at the end of July, and I haven’t been the least bit concerned with potty training because everyone said boys are harder to train than girls and not to even try it until he’s at least two-and-a-half.  Fine by me.  The only experience I’ve had that even relates to the subject is house training dogs, and I’m not sure that kennel-training a child A) is a proven method for potty training, and B) will keep you out of prison. 

I’m not particularly fond of changing diapers, but it’s not like there’s another Tater on the way like so many other moms out there, so we’re in no rush to move him on to independence.  And goodness knows I didn’t want to force the issue and then scar him for life.  

I could just picture it.  “Doctuh Phil, my mama made me wee-wee an poo-poo in de potty wen I waddunt weddy, and now I can nevvuh gwo up to be a pwoductive and contwibuting membuh of de comoonity.”  

So anyway, I thought I had plenty of time to prepare for the potty training thing.  SO MUCH FOR THINKIN’!

About a week ago, I was putting the little fellow to bed.  Our routine is fairly simple.  I give him a bath, we brush his teeth, put his pajamas on, tell Tater Daddy nite-nite and give/receive hugs and kisses, and then Tater Tot and I head off to his room to read a few books.  After I turn out the light, we rock for a few minutes and he usually says, “Bed, Mama?”  I ask, “Are you ready for your bed?”  And he says, “My bed, Mama.”  Hugs, nite-nite kisses, and “I wuv yous” for us, and that’s pretty much it.  

But on this particular night, we finished a book and Tater Tot went to pick out another one but stopped.  He turned around, looked at me and said, “Tee-tee, Mama?”  I don’t know what possessed me to ask it, but I said, “Do you need to go to the bathroom?” and he said, “OKAY!” 

Off we went.  Keep in mind that I hadn’t even taken the little potty out of its box, so my head was spinning the entire 8 steps from his room to the bathroom.  As I was disrobing our son, Tater Daddy, ever helpful, but slightly slow, said, “Why is he up?”  I said, “He told me he needs to potty, so we’re going to potty.”  He told me that I looked worried, and I said, “I’ve never helped a child wee-wee, much less a male child, so this is kind of new.  It could go in the commode or we might draw on the wall.  Who’s to say?”

Tater Tot seemed pretty amused by the prospect of using the big potty.  He just repeated his request and giggled while his Daddy was off fetching a stool, but I finally just stood our little guy up on the seat.  (What the heck was I supposed to do?)  He said, “Here tee-tee comes!”  

And y’all, that child stood on the commode seat with me behind him and wee-weed like a champion.  It went where it was supposed to go.  Not a drop was spilled.  I cheered and told him that he did a great job.  He grinned and giggled and said, “I did it!”  Tater Daddy returned with the stool and said, “Why is he standing up there?” ( I swear.  I can’t help but love him.)  When I told him that it was all over, he said, “You mean I missed it?”  So now Tater Daddy is scarred a little bit for having missed his son’s first in-the-potty experience.

Within 15 minutes I had Tater Tot’s little potty out of its box, all the parts cleaned off, and it was open for, um, business, so to speak.  Ever since then, our little fellow has been pretty happy to tell us when he has to tee-tee.  

It’s the other thing he won’t mention.  I’ve brought it up, explaining that he can tell Mama when he feels like he needs to go and we’ll use his new potty.  He nodded, but hasn’t taken me up on my offer.  He still wanders off and does his business in private, then comes back into the room in such a good mood.  He absolutely hates to have a dirty diaper changed, and he won’t tell me when he’s dirty.  I if I bring it up, he tells me to, “Go away!”  It cracks me up every time.

So, he knows when he has to go.  But it doesn’t bother him once he’s gone in his diaper.  What’s the deal?

Is there a book I should be reading?  Because, clearly, any common sense I should have on the subject is MIA.

If you have any suggestions or tips, PLEASE help a sistuh out.

I’m not interested in rushing Tater Tot, but I don’t want to hold him back, either.

Oh, Lawzy.  I guess I should just get ready to meet Dr. Phil.

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Melanie
    Sep 04, 2008 @ 11:39:24

    That’s hysterical! I wish I could be helpful but I sometimes wonder if my son (8 yrs now) wouldn’t still be wearing a diaper if I hadn’t MADE him start using the potty at 3 1/2! He wouldn’t do it and was SOAKING his clothes during the night. I considered Dr. Phil’s advice about throwing a potty party or something like that when he first started trying but finally decided on gently but forcefully placing his naked behind on the potty and physically hold his wriggling self ’till he did it. He was potty trained by days’ end. Thank you.


  2. Calista
    Sep 04, 2008 @ 22:59:28

    Hey there. Both of mine were the same way. The good news is he’s doing this thing himself, so less worry for Mama. Mine pee-peed on the potty for about two weeks before they finally decided it would be okay to poop there too, gotta break it in ya know. Once he drops his little tater cakes in the potty, that will be it, he probably won’t ever offer to turn back. Looks like your amost done. Make sure you do the potty dance when he finally does it, hoot, holler, turn circles, you know act a foo’ he’ll love it.



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