Potty training after the first week seemed to be going along swimmingly. However, this past week was, shall I say, so challenging that every day Eliza brought me to my wit’s end after exhausting me mentally and physically.
She still loves to go pee in the potty and every time she gets super excited, squealing in joy, pointing at the pot and saying, “Mommy WOOK, Yaya pee peed in da poppy! YAY! (Clap clap clap).” The problem arises when she has to poop.
You might recall she was hesitant to poop on the potty in the first place. She held it in for hours the first few times. The problem is this created a vicious cycle of being afraid it will hurt to poop, holding it in, and pushing it out after impacting it. This – of course – hurts, and so her fears about pooping have been confirmed. Thus, each time she feels the urge, she believes (and knows) it will be a painful experience. She doesn’t want to poop at all now. Not in a diaper and not in the potty. Picture a two-year-old who cannot stop her tantrums for hours on end, as every few minutes she says in a whiny, scared voice, “Mommy, pee! PEE!” while holding her tush and squeezing her legs together. It culminates in crying combined with an expression of terror as it starts to come out against her wishes and will. In a way, I feel bad for her, but in another way, I wish so badly I could reason with her. (And those of you who are reading this and have older children who are not yet trained are probably feeling pretty justified right about now. Go ahead, it’s okay.) Nothing we say helps. We try to relax her. We try to assure her. We tell her how happy all her favorite people will be if she will go. We bribe her with chocolate. None of it is working.
I called the pediatrician and have started her on Miralax this morning, which will make it much softer and get rid of the pain, and in so doing (we hope) erase the fear of the act. I will keep you updated.
In the meantime, I will count my lucky stars that she does still enjoy using the potty and has only had one pee accident in 12 days. I’m going to try to focus on that when I am at my wit’s end again (which should be within the next few hours as she has been doing the poopy dance all morning already).