10 October 2006
Another adventure in potty training
We’ve been trying, with varying degrees of success, to get Muppet out of diapers and on the potty. Some days are really good. Others less so. Yesterday though, he found a new trick.

We now leave Muppet out of diapers during the day. We’ll put one on for nap time and for night time, but otherwise, he’s a normal diaper-free kid. And he’s pretty good about going on the potty. There are three set up around the house—two little pots and a ring that re-sizes the normal potty so he doesn’t fall in. The choice, for someone of his age, is incredible.

But apparently not enough.

Yesterday he pulled out a stacking bucket from his toy box. It’s from a group of 15 or so little buckets that can be stacked one on top of the other or, if turned around, fit one inside the other. So he pulls the little bucket out and proceeds to pulls his jeans off. No big deal, right? One of the potties was right there next to him.

Once his butt’s in the air he put the little bucket on the floor right next to the potty and tried aiming for it. OH NO! I managed to avert the problem with only a dribble in the little bucket which I took into the kitchen to clean.

He followed, letting me know the depth of his discontent. I told him he had to go on the potty. That’s what potties are for. So while I was cleaning the little bucket he disappeared into the living room—home of the potty. Yeah! This being a mom thing ain’t so bad.

Wrong. Two minutes later I hear him freak out, yelling to me that something is broken. Broken? I didn’t hear a crash. What’s wrong Muppet?

In the living room he won’t look at me, keeps his back to me, and tells me his zizi is cassé—broken. A quick glance tells me there’s nothing in the potty, but there’s nothing on the floor either, so we’re OK there. Whew, no major clean-up on aisle five. Back to the broken zizi problem.

After what felt like an eternity (real time = 3 seconds) I get the monkey turned around and discover his zizi is stuck in a half liter coke bottle that he’s half filled with peepee.

They don’t cover this shit in birth class.
posted by Doc at 09:21 | Permalink |