No matter how you potty train your children or when you believe it should be done, the truth is you have to do it (well, someone does). It is as inevitable as diapering, and feeding, and answering millions of inane questions. And like any training, it is learned over time. It must be worked for, like anything worth having. Sure, there are methods for speeding up the process, but even so, the concept of “Toilet Training in Less Than a Day” sounds too good to be true because it is. Accidents after training are a part of life. (Eliza’s been potty-trained for half her short life, and yet she pooped in the pool last week, remember?) For my kids, so far it has been “Toilet Training in 3 Days.” If that sounds like magic to you, read on.
This morning around 10:30, Zach walked up to his potty, said, “Mommy, pee pee,” pulled down his pants, sat, peed, got up, emptied the pot into the toilet, flushed it, and put his training toilet back together. I’d call that success. It was proof that he now understands not only the urge to go, but what to do with that urge before urine starts trickling down his legs. He has kept his pants dry for about 24 hours (except when sleeping). But about an hour later, he came and got me because he had pooped himself. You see, in all the training time so far, he has only pooped twice, and both times it’s been during his nap (in a diaper because he’s still in a crib). Now he has to connect the fact that yes, even for poop, he needs to get to the toilet as well. We are far closer than we were on Saturday morning when we began, but we are still working at it.
The point is that I wanted to give up. It seemed inexorable at times, and Zach just seemed to be struggling so much. But now he’s proud of himself and his new skill. I would still recommend this book to anyone looking to potty train his child. It’s just intense. It also has some flaws, so even if Greg and I are partly to blame for our kids not “getting it” by the end of a morning, the book should shoulder some responsibility. The most frustrating thing about this book is that it makes it sound so easy, so if you have issues, it does not give you troubleshooting help. For example, it gives a specific process you are to go through with them when they wet themselves, yet we almost never made it through that process without our kids peeing during it, which completely derails what you know you’re supposed to do. It also doesn’t account for children who cry throughout the process because they are upset about wetting themselves, or sitting on the potty, or peeing out the front of the toilet seat.
Regardless of the details of this method, or any method anyone uses, it takes a lot of effort to get your children to connect their brains to their bladders so they pee in a potty before they pee on you or your furniture. Accepting the responsibility of toilet training is accepting that you’re going to have a lot of crap to clean up, accepting it’s going to be gross and uncomfortable at times, and accepting that your wishes are basically on-hold while you go through it. In retrospect, it’s a Cliff’s Notes version of the whole parenting experience.
It’s not magic. There’s no Mary Poppins, spoonful of sugar, snap your fingers and it’s done process. No matter how you do it, it’s hard work for everyone. But in the end, you get to look back and realize what you’ve accomplished, and be thankful you’re not changing poop diapers any more. And I’m hopeful I won’t be cleaning it off of Zach’s legs or washing it out of his pants very soon, too.