A Perfect Day for a Potty Training Slip Up

Last Friday was a gorgeous gift of a day: sunny, warm, not a cloud in the sky. We headed out to Jack's soccer class eagerly, looking forward to an hour to sit on a blanket and soak up the sun.

Juliette was especially proud of her strawberry dress, a cute hand me down from Bella that she discovered in the closet. Her chubby little legs looked so cute running around in the grass, playing in the goal with the extra soccer balls.

I ran off to get my camera to capture this perfect day and arrived just in time to watch Juliette peeing in the sun. I wasn't quick enough to capture the look of pure relief on her face but this shot at least captures our ongoing struggles with potty training.

Happy Wordful, Wordless and Way-back wednesday!

Potty Training? Not Quite Mission Accomplished

It appears that I might have been hasty in getting nostalgic about our diaper era. Last week, Juliette took to her potty training with gusto. Every thirty minutes or so, she would declare, "my have to pee really badly!" We got to know many toilets intimately, but we had few accidents with the exception of a few drops in her undies.

I got cocky. I admit it. I bragged about her success to anyone who would listen. My daughter, child prodigy, potty trained at two!

But the novelty wore off. Juliette either tired of all the praise or decided she wasn't ready to be a big girl after all. Today she started asking for diapers, saying no underwear. Suddenly I couldn't remember why I was so sad to say farewell to these expensive landfill fillers.

If I wanted the potty training to stick, it was time to break out the big guns: the reward chart. I'd never tried it with Juliette. Reward charts had always been very effective with Bella and completely ineffective with Jack. It was time to see how it would be with number three.

I drew up the chart in fun green ink and explained it to Juliette. "Everytime you pee or poo on the potty, you'll get a star. Once you fill up each of these boxes, I'll get you those little baby dolls you were playing with during babysitting today." Juliette nodded and repeated back to me, "I pee and I get little dolls?" I nodded back at her, "that's right cutie. If you pee on the potty. Not in your diaper."

Suddenly, magically, Juliette had to pee. She didn't protest when I took her diaper off and took her seat on the throne eagerly. She beamed as the drops started hitting the water. When she finished though, she looked disappointed. She bent her head down and looked into the bowl.

"What's the matter cutie?" I asked. She looked up at me, all confused, "Mommy? Where are the little dolls?"

Surviving Potty Training Boot Camp

Two weeks ago, I sat in the ER of a little Vermont town with Juliette. She was busy charming the disheveled ER doc when she suddenly started screaming in pain and grasping her crotch. She was peeing. The doctor said that although it certainly looked like a urinary tract infection, he was going to need a urine sample to identify the bacteria and match it to the correct antibiotic. He then asked what seemed like an unimportant question, "is she potty trained?" I answered, "She's only two. She's peed on the potty a few times, but she's still in diapers."

"That's too bad," he said, "we'll have to catheterize her." At that point, the bushy bearded male nurse wearing a Hawaiian shirt chimed in with an ominous, "We don't do those often on girls that little. This should be interesting."

I wanted to grab my baby and run far away. But as we were a good four hours from home, I knew this was the best option available. They tried, twice. Two horrible sessions with Juliette screaming in agony while armies of nurses struggled unsuccesfully to get a tiny tube in her. We spent the entire day in the ER before catching some her pee in a cup as she ran around the room naked.

Thirty minutes later we had our test results and our antibiotics and we were on our way home. Case closed.

Except that four days later, she was still crying every time she peed. So we went back to the doctor's and tried again unsuccessfully to get a cup of urine. This time, thankfully, the doctor didn't ask to catheterize her. He just sent us home with a cup.

That night Juliette got a little pee in the cup, enough for a new antibiotic to be prescribed. She finally stopped having pain when urinating. Case closed.

Except that Juliette decided that she didn't want to ever go through that catheter debacle again. On Monday she announced that she was done with diapers. "My big girl, mommy. My no wear diapers."

It was a terrible day, we had to drive forty minutes to an eye doctor appointment for Bella. I imagined her car seat overflowing with pee, me pulled off on the side of the Tappan Zee Bridge... but I could not talk her into putting on a diaper.

That morning we went through four outfits. The next day we went through two. Yesterday one. And today, she was perfect. We went to the bathroom at least 20 times, every time she called out, "Mommy, my have to pee really badly." And every time, she sat, got very still, and squeezed out some pee. As soon as the liquid started to flow, she broke into a huge proud smile, amazed by her new ability.

Potty trained, on her own terms, on her own time. Now I'm the one left wrapping my head around the fact that, for the first time in seven years, I have no child in diapers!