Just What, May I Ask, Is the Difficulty?

We thought we had it all figured out. We thought we were A-1 super parents. Apparently we were wrong.

For Elijah’s second birthday last year we bought him a potty. (Don’t think he got a raw deal. We bought Dylan a bigger car seat for his first birthday. We certainly do birthdays proud around here!) We thought we might be jumping the gun a little with Lij, but we figured that way when he was ready, we’d be ready. And he thought the potty was a great gift by the way. Unfortunately, he never took a shine to using it.

We began attempting to acclimate Lij to his potty at bath time. We have a strict no-pee-or-poop-in-the-bathtub policy. (You have to draw the line somewhere). So before he got in the tub, we’d sit him on his potty and let him know that this was the time to go to the bathroom if he needed to. Not in the bathtub.

But no luck. He’d happily get on the potty and then after about three seconds would begin to whimper and moan to be taken off again. And we would oblige. We didn’t want to force the issue. We were just introducing the potty. (But why wasn’t it working?) Then we had a breakthrough. His potty was uncomfortable! It was hard molded plastic, with raised edges around the hole and probably hurt his poor little bum. We felt guilty for buying him an uncomfortable potty. We felt stupid for not figuring it out sooner.

Off to the store we trotted the next day to get a new - more comfortable - potty. And because we’re the A-1 super parents that we are, we even sprang for the more-expensive-but-character- emblazoned model. Because we knew it would make Lij love his potty. And it has. Sort of.

We now have a hard time getting him off the toilet and into the bathtub. He happily goes “pee-pee in Blues Clues.” He even wipes up and says “bye-bye” when he flushes. He is a potty champion! Provided its bath time. Any other time of day seems to be off limits for potty-going.

That and he won’t use his potty for poop. For reasons unknown to a mostly rational thinking adult, Lij would prefer to poop in his diaper - that he’s wearing, next to his skin – than use the potty for this purpose.

Granted, it’s a big step. And Alexander and I are committed to not pressuring him into potty training. But Lij also won’t tell me when he’s got a dirty diaper. He’ll go off by himself in some corner to poop and then hide from me until I smell him out. Once I confront him (with an oh-so-polite “Is there a stinky in your diaper?”), he’ll deny the existence of the stink and the bulge at the back of his diaper and run away from me when I try to herd him toward the changing table. Hours later, in tears, he’ll finally let me change him. His bum is no a bright shade of painful and yells “ouch” at the top of his lungs as I clean him up – as if it’s my fault.

All of this makes no sense to me. And it is at times like these that I feel forced to apply logic. I just can’t help myself.

Me: Your bottom hurts. I know. Ouch! I’m sorry.

Lij: (with tears –always with tears) Ouch!

Me: Poop hurts your bottom, doesn’t it?

Lij: (wiping tears from his eyes) Yeah.

Me: Because you wouldn’t let mommy change your diaper.

Lij: (sniffles and nods)

Me: Would you like poop to not hurt your bottom anymore?

Lij: (sniffles and nods)

Me: You can use your potty and it won’t hurt.

Lij: (wipes away more tears, looking interested now)

Me: You could go poop in Blues Clues and not in your diaper. Do you want to do that?

Lij: (sniffles and nods)

Me: Okay. Next time you have to poop say “Mama! Poop!” And you can go poop in Blues Clues.

And then we proceed to practice saying “poop” as I finish diapering his sore little bum. I set him down and he waddles off, bow-legged, stepping gingerly to avoid chaffing his glowing-with-pain bottom. And yet if not the next day, then the day after that, the cycle repeats itself.

You would think he’d get tired of having a diaper rash. You would think he’d get tired of hauling around a loaded diaper. You would think he’d get tired of that smell. You would think using the potty would be a desirable solution. But if you would think that, you’re not thinking like my Lij.

So we wait for the day when he’ll be completely diaper-free. And in the meantime, we celebrate his “pee-pees in Blues Clues.” And we celebrate our ability – as A-1 super parents – to solve at least one of the mysteries of our son’s childhood.