Milestone Monday: Good Info on Potty Training

Monday, June 11th, 2012

I don’t think I’ve ever sat on a public toilet. I squat, but I don’t let my legs touch. My quads get a good workout. So does my brain. I will myself not to look at or think about the grime, the hair, and god-knows-what-else that is lurking. I have already been in hypnotherapy for my compulsive cleaning addiction. But training Fia to not only go into a public toilet, but to SIT on one, is going to be tough. However, doctor’s orders: Get over it!

At her 2.5-year check up last week he really set me straight.

“How’s she doing with potty training?” he asked.

“She does great with the poops, but we haven’t worked on pee as much.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because she will pee a lot more frequently, which means I have to deal with public bathrooms. And I’d prefer diapers to kneeling on a disgusting floor with her on a disgusting toilet. So I’ve been putting off the inevitable. With poop, it’s only once a day and usually in the evening, so we’re at home.”

“Ahhh…. this is very important to discuss then,” he said.

The short of it is: if you don’t train your children to go the bathroom–#1 or #2–in every scenario, then they will develop an aversion to using the bathroom outside of the house. He knows people who are prisoners to their own potty. They literally won’t leave their dwelling until they’ve shat.

“There’s a fire? Sorry, I can’t evacuate. I haven’t pooped yet.”

Basically, if I don’t teach her to go everywhere and anywhere, she could end up with a bathroom obsession. And lord only knows she probably already has many obsessive tendencies/genes. She doesn’t need anymore.

My next meditation will consist of positive imagery. I will envision us walking into the bathroom, dressed in fatigues, my head held high. I will properly line her toilet seat with paper. I will cheerlead. A cockroach might run past with a pubic hair in its mouth. “Look Mama look!” she’ll shout with excitement.  “Wow, how neat!” I’ll say through clenched teeth. “Are you finished yet?”

My face will never show disgust.

We will sit for 15 minutes. She will pee a teaspoon. And damn it, I’ll enjoy every minute and drop.

Another good example Fia’s pediatrician gave:

He hates salmon. Every time they have it, his girls whine, “Daddy, do we have to eat the salmon?” He replies, “Of course you do. Salmon is yummy!” and puts a forkful in his mouth (even though he is cringing inside). If he took a different approach, i.e.: “I don’t like salmon either,” they may never eat that fish again. If they end up disliking it, fine. But don’t let it be because of you.

We all know kids are little mimes. As parents, we are asked to do the impossible: show them the way, even if it’s not our way, our preference.  But when it comes to bodily functions, there really isn’t a choice.

For me, I want to travel the world with my kids. She’ll have to learn to squat over dirt holes in India, on bushes in Africa, and in outhouses in South Dakota.  And I get to lead the way. From now on, I will see the filth and squat right next to it. I will smile at it.

In short, I will embrace the gross.

Grungy toilet via Shutterstock

New Baby Update

Thursday, February 2nd, 2012

Emmett's First Days

I have a son. Wow, that’s fun to say. And here I was worried about changing diapers with a penis underneath. So far I’ve been peed on twice and haven’t minded a bit. Emmett is so cute and cuddly–as I guess most newborns are. So where to begin?

The hospital stay, while not a spa, was nicer than Columbia Presbyterian in NYC. And this time around, I decided to have Emmett sleep in the nursery all 4 nights. With Fia I was terrified of letting her out of my sight, yet at the same time, terrified I’d screw up in doing anything. I think most of us new moms can relate.

I have a major obsession with my sleep. When I don’t get a solid chunk, I start to disintegrate. With Fia, I lost my marbles right out the gate, since it was a 36-hour labor followed by a C-section. With Emmett, I decided to stay ahead of the sleep curve and the pain curve.  That meant getting 6-7 solid hours a night in the hospital (well, maybe 5, then 3 more. The nurses would laugh when they’d see me making my rounds at 2:30 a.m. to check on my little dude) and taking pain meds. It has made a huge difference in my mental state. If only my physical one could match it….

I’m finding recovery really hard. Everyone says a scheduled C is so much easier. And to some extent it is. However,  I took “easier” to mean that I was basically going in for a flu shot and getting a baby in return. Um, slight miscalculation on my part.

After the surgery, I bled a lot. I was already anemic going in. So that didn’t help matters. I was really really sore too–more so than I expected. Again, thinking it was as simple as a shot.

Taking it easy at home is really hard for my type-A personality. My in-laws are here to help which has been great. But I’m a clean freak and I still feel the need to keep things organized, clutter free and crumb-free (there are constant crumbs on the counter, the floor, etc. That’s what my friend is having me try homeopathy for–to lessen the obsession.) Maybe I’m extra obsessed right now because it’s the only part of my life I can control. So in trying to do that, I’ve also had a few setbacks–the first day and a half I did too much. I ended up feeling dizzy and short of breath. Which put me back in bed. The crumbs and mess around the house were driving me crazy. But in the end, the crumbs can wait–they’ll have to.

Much more to write about. Baby’s first doc visit, the transition with Fia, breastfeeding issues, our decision on circumcision–to name a few. So more to come! Thanks again for all the well wishes.

Here’s a picture from the study in which I write this. He is sleeping in his swing… life is good.

Sweet Dreams My Boy

Hellish Household Help–Part 1

Monday, August 1st, 2011

Disclaimer: yes, I have cleaning ladies. Yes it’s an indulgence of mine. I started it after Fia was born when I felt overwhelmed. I know this is a good problem to have, and I’m not overlooking the fact that I’m lucky. But tell me if this is whacked:

The two of them would show up 90 minutes on either side of the scheduled time. Consistently. Then they’d fry up food in my kitchen and have a leisurely meal before beginning the job. Now I don’t mind people eating in my house, but when you show up late to start with, then take another 30 minutes for your meal, we’re talking a 2-hour delay. If I showed up 90 minutes late to work and went in the kitchen and made pancakes and bacon, I think my boss would be a little annoyed–with good reason.

I’d plead with them to please come on time. They would just shrug and say they’d try. I’d explain that I plan my day around their schedule. We live in an apartment so Fia and I have to leave when they’re here.  They also know Fia sleeps in the bathroom.  And it’s hard to clean a bathroom with a sleeping baby.

So after a year of their services, I told them I couldn’t handle their lack of punctuality. I told them if they could be on time, I’d keep them on (didn’t even mention the food thing). They said they couldn’t. Shocking, but okay. At least they’re honest.

My sensible and meticulous friend recommended her cleaning lady to me. Said she was always on time and did a great job. And didn’t fry up a buffet before cleaning.

I had her come over.  And that’s where my story gets even more absurd.