Potty Training Questions--and Some Tentative Answers

In response my plea for potty training advice and encouragement, here, which refers back to my potty training despair post, here, Lilybug and Melanie have raised some interesting questions about readiness. Lilybug has been contemplating potty training Lilybaby and observing the much invoked "signs of readiness," while Melanie asks:

"How do you know when your child is ready? What are good books to read? Should I even be worrying about this now or should I just wait and see?"

Well, I've never been one for reading lots of parenting books. I just kind of "wing it"!--you know, like teaching. ;) Actually, I've always had a lot of parenting advice courtesy of my mom, and having seen her in action, I have trusted her advice. So I can't recommend any books on potty training. It went off without a hitch with my son--and that was a long time ago, so I don't really remember the details. Having said this, I have heard potty lore, and I guess I've stubbornly decided not to try the quick & easy gimmicks of potty training.

I still think I'm a decent gauge of readiness. Readiness for me means

1) They show a conscious awareness of bodily functions
2) They are reasonably capable of communicating the need to use the bathroom
3) They show an inclination to use the bathroom.

The only one I question is that last one. Why, you might ask? Because an inclination to use the bathroom is maybe not developmental. Especially if they can "regress" in the way I'm seeing. Surely, she is developmentally ready, since she was almost there. But she's not particularly inclined right now.

Forgetting for a moment my "not reading parenting books" policy, Doodle has made me issue a plea for parenting books in the past. Blog-friend Sarah R. lent me her "baby whisperer" books--which I am long overdue in returning (sorry!!). The books are sensible, readable, and amusing. Here are some tidbits about potty training from Secrets of the Baby Whisperer for Toddlers:

--"I don't believe in pushing little ones into doing anything their bodies aren't ready for them to do, but at the same time, we need to present opportunities for children to learn. Sadly, too many parents are confused between two issues: behavior that needs to be taught and natural progressions (developmental milestones that automatically happen)."

[insert helpful metaphors]

--"Physical readiness for toilet training depends partially on your child's sphincter muscles. [. . .] It was once believed that these muscles didn't mature until the ace of two, but research is now divided on the subject. In any case, training is both a matter of physical readiness and practice."

--"A three- or four-year-old whose parents keep waiting for him to come 'round on his own already has control over his sphincter muscles, but he might never show an interest in 'going potty' unless he's given the right kind of guidance, encouragement, and sufficient opportunities to learn."

--"You must be observant . . . so as to identify the best 'window' for starting potty training--when your child's body and mind are ready and yet before the inevitable child/parent power struggles begin. For most children, the optimal time to begin is between eighteen months and two years." [proceed to guidelines with helpful acronym]

I want to pause there for a moment. I have never heard it phrased quite like this. Especially this phrase, which means so much for me with Doodle: "before the inevitable child/parent power struggles begin." I've clearly covered THAT topic before. In short, I missed the optimal window. But that's because of other received wisdom on potty training. You've all heard it--don't potty train when there is some major upheaval, life or family event. So what was going on last summer, when Doodle was about 18 months? I was pregnant and we were moving. Common wisdom says don't potty train around a move or when a sibling is expected. Which was fine for me, because I was exhausted from pregnancy and teaching and didn't think I would be able to do it effectively. However, a few times last summer, she did use the bathroom. On her own. No prompting from us, only assistance. Hello!! Window of opportunity!! And in retrospect, the birth of a new sibling was not traumatic for her as I feared it would be. We might have had a bit of potty training regression, but how would that be different from now?? So I waited. First mistake. *sigh*

I don't know if this helps with the readiness questions. I'm not sure it would necessarily have helped me, clouded as I was with anxiety and pregnancy hormones. You know the cliche about hindsight.

So more from the "baby whisperer." Here is her Help-ful acronym (ha ha):

H--Hold back until you see signs that your child is ready [She explains the signs that the child is aware of the sensation of peeing, etc.]

E--Encourage your child to connect bodily functions with words and actions

L--Limit your child's time on the potty

P--Praise the Lord and pass the toilet paper! [She extols the virtue of silliness and parental encouragement.]

Now, most of these I have known, but it's helpful to be reminded. Apart from missing the readiness window that would have lessened the conflict of the process, I have gotten a bit weak in the "Praise" category. 'Cause you know, after a while, it's just not that exciting. And life intervenes with all of its frustrations, and the newly mobile infant is eating paper in the living room, and "YAAAAAAAY!!!" changes to "yay. now wipe," and well, what the heck is the point if Momma isn't excited, right? Then I started getting impatient with accidents, since she was already doing it and at some point it should become expected behavior, right? So the rewards system came to seem more like punishment, I guess. *sigh*

The baby whisperer further offers the "Four Ps of Potty Training": Potty (as in potty seat), Patience (which I am sorely lacking), Practice, and Presence ("sit with him and cheer him on"--I've been remiss on this one sometimes, too, and I just couldn't wait until she would take the initiative to go & try herself).

So where do we go now that I've botched 2 of the signs? Well, this morning, as she clung to the nighttime pullup, I rather unceremoniously ripped it off. To stop her indignant wails, I changed the subject, and we went to look for the Cinderella panties that I bought recently. (No, it's not the same as Disney princesses. Trust me. It's a matter of marketing.) She has a sing-along with the mice from Cinderella singing about fixing Cinderella's dress for her. So when we found the panties, we sang the song, and she went to the bathroom without a fight. We haven't repeated that success this morning, but no accidents either. She simply has never wanted to "go" before the point of crisis. At least, not for a while. Perhaps because for 1/2 of the time, her efforts were spoiled by bubble bath irritation. Perhaps because of sheer toddler stubbornness. My first was never so toddler-y.

To deal with the not wanting to stop & use the bathroom, Academama suggested a timer. I may have to try this. There should be some novelty & excitement to hearing the buzzer or chime and saying, "Potty time! Potty time!" Perhaps we can circumvent the stubbornness. M&Ms as rewards don't work for her. She'd just as soon do without them as submit to someone else's will. I just hope that the battles of wills that have already occurred won't have any lasting effects.

So these are some preliminary answers and my revised strategies. Any thoughts? I'll keep you posted. . .

A Post-Script

In all of this, I have been bothered by the rhetoric of potty-training, in which "the earlier the better" is the standard mentality. This usually has to do with the convenience of the parents, the expense of diapers, the convenience of the day care workers, and other things that are absolutely irrelevant to the toddler or his or her well-being. The other problem I have with this is that it sets expectations for the parent and the child, to which they are held accountable. I'd like to stop being such an over achiever and not let it bother me, but truth is, I'm judging both of us because of it, and that's the last thing we need right now. :( So I'll be working on that, too.

And Another. . .

Inspired by Jen, I decided to see what I was blogging about last year. On June 11, my post-ultrasound and post-move post contained the following observation:

Overall, now that the major part of the stress is behind me, I can declare, tentatively, that the move was a success. The baby is much freer and happier, albeit getting banged up from running around boxes. She goes to sleep much earlier because she exerts more energy during the day. We take occasional walks around the complex and have even gone swimming once. It is a bit hard to keep track of her sometimes, but she has some little designated play places and is exploring new (old) toys (courtesy of brother and aunts & uncles)--like dishes & Potato Heads. She is also expressing interest in potty training, but I don't know if I'm ready for that. . .

Yeah. Window of opportunity. Missed it.

Being More Direct. . .

. . .Than in my "woe is me" potty training post. . . Anyone have any similar experiences to share, tips, advice, encouragement? I'd love to hear from you. Really. Please. I know you're out there--I have Sitemeter!!

Utter and Complete Failure. . .

That's where we are with potty training. After 2 months. After Easter, things were going great. We were almost completely potty trained at the beginning--heck, in the MIDDLE of May! No pullups except at night, and then, they often stayed dry. Then, we had setbacks. First, the pullups stopped staying dry at night--no big deal. Then the nervousness about public toilets flushing turned to all-out terror. That transferred to fear of all toilets--at least, sitting on them with the water beneath. We have to put a potty-seat on the home toilet with the potty-chair insert inside of it. The fuuny thing is that she still likes to flush it herself. When the terror reached its peak, we lit a candle at church on a particularly difficult Sunday and realized later that day that most of the extreme difficulty had started when we switched bubble baths. And I even bought Burt's Bees!! All natural my foot--yeah, natural except for the perfume!! :( We took care of that, and she stopped fighting us. And then, she got sick. Toilet kind of sick. The kind you don't want to clean up so you put the pullups back on. It only lasted about 24 hours, but that seems to be enough. We have total and complete not-caring-if-we-wet-ourselves kind of regression. At least, today. Twice. She did make the effort a couple of times, but I'm still totally frustrated. At least we don't have the pressure of fall child care riding on this. Maybe I'll go petition St. Elizabeth Ann Seton.

And then have a beer.

Decisions, Decisions

I have been stressing about the child care issue for the fall. If you've been hanging around here, you know that I don't much like to have my babies in child care when they're little. I'm all about working with kids arounds--I've been doing it for as long as I can remember. But I'm also O.K. with having them in preschool programs when they're 3 & up. Two if I'm really pressed, and I did actually enroll my Doodle when she was almost a year, though I only kept her in for a day. Because I'm protective, germ-conscious, and not really very trusting. Go figure. So we decided that the fall would be a good time to start Doodle in preschool, and my son's old Montessori school would take Doodle in the 3-year-old class even though she won't be 3 until October, as long as she's potty trained. Well, that has been going pretty well, but it's a long, slow journey with lots of stops along the way. Most recently, after months of increasing success, she has become scared of flushing toilets--first in public bathrooms, then at home. We uncovered an irritation due to bubble bath that probably made things worse. Meanwhile, I have been getting increasingly frustrated--and the baby who has decided that sleeping is overrated is not helping (turns out there are teeth involved, and she probably needs more solids!). I've been feeling a lot of pressure about the potty training thing, in part because of the success-turned-failure aspect, but also because plans for the fall rest on potty training success. That's a lot of pressure to put on a toddler and her parents. Also, let's face it, I'm super-maniacally ambitious for my children, and what I see as realistic goals are not always realistic. *whew* Glad I got that out!! (Yeah, 'cause you didn't know that, right? Literacy-chic? Overambitious? Naaaaah. . .)

Meanwhile, I had two other issues. First: the summer. Because in July I'll be teaching every day. Then: the fact that the Montessori school wouldn't really accommodate my fall teaching schedule. In fact, it would be afternoons only, so it would actually make things worse, since I would literally have to kick the friend who would be watching the two girls out of the house after I taught so that I could bring Doodle to school. Besides that it would destroy nap time and make for a really weird schedule otherwise. All of this for Doodle-free office hours? Not worth it. Then, I've got the person I'll be working closely with in the fall making cracks about not getting involved in my schedule because it's too complicated (perhaps with a touch of disdain--not sure. . .). Yeah, try it from my end!!

I had considered sending her to my parish child development center, but they're the ones that didn't work out before. Too many things to go into, really, but all made me very uneasy. They have a new director now, and my main reservations had to do with the fact that Doodle, who will be 3 years in October, would be in the 2 year class to keep her in line with public schools. Now, I'm not particularly interested in what public schools do. I went to a private school when I was in K-1 so that I could circumvent those rules and start Kindergarten at 4, and I would not hesitate to do so for my children. In fact, I would love to do so for my children! But I don't know if I have to start just yet.

Doodle is a very intelligent child, which is making the toddler years particularly difficult. She resents all constraints on her activities. She is a good child, but stubborn, and spirited. Sensitive, but strong-minded. I was very different when I was a young child, but I can't help but see her as combining some of the more--umm--troublesome characteristics of myself and my husband! And yet she is empathetic and sweet and smart, kind and loving. She doesn't understand punishment. It hurts her feelings and accomplishes nothing. She has the endurance of the most stubborn of martyrs. It's incredible. She doesn't pitch the same kinds of tantrums that other toddlers pitch, she simply does not yield to anyone else's will. So while I think she would be fine in the 3-year-old class for a number of reasons, I'm not sure if she is ready in other respects.

You know, it goes against every fiber of my being to admit that I need a break from my strong-willed child--the one I worry about the most. I remind myself that my brother, whom I helped raise when he was her age--was much more difficult. But I think the fact is, it would be good for both of us for her to start school relatively soon. So I am going to start her in the parish's child development center in their summer program part time, and continue part-time in the fall. Next summer, I plan to be off (if I can distribute my 9-month salary over 12 months) so I can spend that time with my children full-time.

It's funny how a blog makes you confront your beliefs and practices. I am not wholeheartedly in favor of child care, especially for my young children. I don't like the idea that I need a "break" from my children. I am totally not on board with the idea that school can give them things that I can't. Yet there it is. What can school give her that I can't? Playtime. Not much else, but I just can't stand to watch a child outside. I hated it when I was young and I really have to be in the mood now that I'm a parent and obligated. Playgroups don't work for me because I can't sit back and let the kids play. It's not in my nature. Things happen on playgrounds. Don't those parents know that?? There are bugs and fire poles on playground equipment and other people's kids!! Oh, the humanity! But Doodle needs that. And I really need the girls to take naps at the same time so I can recover my sanity.

So my Doodle will be at school 3 days in July. Now, Chiclette is another matter. She's still small and roly and docile, with limited (but ever-increasing) mobility. So she'll get some mommy-only time, and sister can share germs with her when she gets home! *sigh*

How Do We Love Them?

Each time I have contemplated having another baby, the thought has struck me: how is it possible that I should love another child as much as I love this one? Each of my children has been an incredible--amazing!--emotional investment: all of the hopes, fears, worries, joyful moments, new experiences, anxieties. . . For years, I wasn't certain that I could have another baby and love him or her as much as I loved my son--fertility wasn't the issue, but love. The thought seemed strange. At the risk of sounding cliché, it was becoming Catholic that opened my mind to the possibility that I could, indeed, have another baby to love, with whom to share all of our family experiences--but that's another post. The same thoughts surfaced when I was pregnant for number three--I was still in the midst of the intense, anxious infant-to-toddler love; my son had had years of my love (and I had had years to love only him with wonderful and difficult mother-love) and seemed much more self-sufficient by the time his sister was born. But however many babies we have, there are always new things to be learned, and I've been thinking about how we love our growing families. . .

We love them all in their different ways--that seems obvious. Each has a different personality, different needs. But while that is true, there are ways that we love them that are the same--or similar--for each child, which nevertheless vary according to where we are with them at the time.

We love them in the midst of the group dynamic: When older brother is able to pick up the youngest, we smile to see his delicate manipulation of her soft floppiness. When he is able to negotiate the various compromises of toddler interaction to give Momma time to take a shower, we are grateful. And amid our exasperation from the noise and commotion it generates, we love to see his horseplay with the little sisters because of the affection it betrays. There is a communication between the baby and the toddler that is amazing to see. . . We love the nicknames that one bestows on the other. And the thrill that is apparent when little sister catches sight of her big sister reverberates through us, and we echo her joy.

We also love them in ways that are (st)age-appropriate: Babies, we adore. This is why we celebrate Christmas, no? That this instinctual love that humans are meant to feel for the smallest and most helpless of our race--the rapt emotional embrace that requires no act of our will--should be transferred to our Lord and Savior. We love them in our recognition of the newness of their actions and their experiences--in our observation of the novelty of their interactions with their senses, their bodies, their families, their worlds. Even amid sweet frustrations, we love their recognition of ourselves--who we are to them--and love their needs, which we alone fulfill. We love their cries and fussiness, and dwell on the sweet sounds that we know we can soothe, or else we love them with anxiety, holding them until their discomfort passes.

Toddlers, we love with tolerance and a sense of adventure. We love them with a wry twinkle, appreciating their cleverness as they demonstrate to us that we can't sneak anything past them--not an open door, not a single piece of chocolate. We love them when we follow their routines--never ever coming in the front door when we come home, but heading around the building to play by the porch. We love them when we "see down" to play with legos or blocks instead of doing that very important thing that we should be doing. And when we repeat with wonder that word or phrase that we've just heard for the first time, or smile at that thing that they shouldn't be doing but which is a very big accomplishment, we give them our love. By letting the baby cry or fuss just a little bit longer to attend to the needs of the toddler, we are loving them in a way that really matters. In every delicate frustration we endure--even if not so well--or turn into a rowdy game, in every single effort to divert attention from that one forbidden or harmful thing, we love them. We love them as we share our tasks with them, even if we can accomplish them better alone. We love them when we hold them like the babies they still are, enjoying their affection whenever it happens to present itself.

In all of their seeming independence and hidden vulnerability, we love our older ones--our "pre-teens," though that term is speeding them on to a stage they have not yet reached--in ways that are subtle, but special. It may mean popping in to comment on a particularly well-played cello piece, suggesting that something is not quite right with a certain note, or asking about the piece being played. In our attentions to what is important to them, we love them. It may mean listening--at least for a little while--to the narrative of "how I beat the last video game boss." We love them when we laugh at their jokes--even the really corny ones. We love them when we accept the help they give us rather than dwelling on the help that was not given. We love them when we answer their questions honestly and carefully, giving neither too much information, nor too little. We love them by walking beside them sometimes, not always in front.

We love them all by remembering all of the ways we love them, as often as possible.