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3 years ago

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Photo: Ohhh… such peaceful bliss…. it’s a lie! Don’t fall for it! They are just plotting their next mission to drive me crazy!


Major was up at 6:20 this morning. “I have to go to the toilet,” he announced.

That was after my husband invaded my morning routine, getting himself up at 5:50 to work out in the living room (Yay for working out! Even if I didn’t write much this morning!). I had to get my coffee and notebooks to escape to this office, only then to have the 4 year-old take his place in my headspace.

“Go and then go back to bed! It’s too early to be up.”

And that was the truth of it. It was too early to be up. But I had to honor his need to do his thing, so into the bathroom he went. He did have to go…

but then he needed 8 minutes to wash his hands…

and another 5 to put his pants back on…

then there was much discussion about if he was still sleepy or not.

This is the newest iteration of an old, old conflict. I’m calling it:

The Second Potty War

The Second Potty War features two theaters: The After-Bed Theater and the Minor Theater.

Let’s start with the After-Bed Theater because that’s where my day started.

Remember when I posted a few weeks ago about Minor waking up with dry diapers in the morning? He’s been doing this for two months. Bone dry diapers in the morning. It’s amazing! Major has been a bit jealous of his brother, though we are not expecting that Major wake up the same way. When he announced that he wanted to wake up dry too, The Husband and I told him that he could use the potty at night time. “Just get us first. Ok?”

Well aren’t we damn fools? He only did the middle-of-the-night wake-up once. Instead, he’s been using his potty breaks as an excuse to stay awake past his bedtime. Potty–the perfect stall tactic.

Imagine settling in for some deep-couch sitting… maybe some wine in hand, or maybe a manuscript in your lap some 20 minutes after bedtime. Then you hear the tell-tale jiggle, that scrap of metal as the door opens, and little footsteps in the hallway. “Little boy, go back to bed!”

“But I’ve gotta use the toilet!”

He figured out that we’ll honor that, even when we know he’s abusing the system!  Every night, without fail! My Lord… I hope we all survive.

So, to be clear, I’m failing in the After-Bed Theater.

Let’s turn to the Minor  Theater:

My Mother, so full of sage wisdom about stuff, has told me on many occasions that potty training Minor will be a “cake walk” because he’s going to want to emulate his brother. “You’re going to be amazed by how easy it is!”

Mmhmm… she was right about potty of the first order… but potty of the second order? It’s a struggle. I was just with that child, me sitting in the hallway, him sitting on the throne, looking down at me and basically telling me that there was nothing in the world I could do or say that would make him make a movement.

Just imagine that: 3 years old, lookin’ down at his mother with all seriousness and with a stubbornness so pure it could be bottled and distributed to politicians for cash money. “No, I don’t want to poop.” “Fine, you can have my toys.” “No, I don’t care if I don’t get a cookie.” “Yes, I’m ok with staying here.” “No, I will not be pooping. I will just stay here forever.”

He gets his stubbornness from his father.

The biggest problem with the Minor Theater is that I’ve been fighting it alone. We haven’t had a full weekend where both parents can be home to do the naked bum-bum method and The Husband has been working extra hours lately.  We refuse to pay for Easy-ups, deciding they’re a scam, and he treats underroos like they are diapers so…

You know what’s the worst of it? Besides being $40 a box for the Pampers size 6, which absolutely doesn’t last a month anymore, the child is just about too big for diapers! Seriously! They are tight on him! And yet still… he doesn’t want to give ’em up and join the rest of us in big-person land, so….

Failure in the second theater.

I’m losing the battles and the war, ya’ll!

My pediatrician thinks it’s funny to tell me that “everybody is potty trained by the time they get to college.”

Yeah? How about kindergarten?

For all of my complaining, it all still got done today. I’m looking forward to watching the second GOP debate tonight! There will be drinking and yelling at the television and judgmental glares at my husband, all while I pray that Joe Biden decides to give it a go. For the love of God, let Joe run so we can get some damn sanity back into this race!

Anyway. It’s Wednesday, Dear Reader, and you are that much closer to the weekend. I hope you are feeling accomplished and ready to tackle the rest of your week. I’ve already got my Quiet Thoughts going, so I look forward to seeing you on Friday!

Until then, take care.


3 Replies to “The Second Potty War”

  1. LOL. My son didn’t potty train until 3 years and 9 months. I was frustrated as heck. But, he got the daytime down packed but not the nighttime. He finally got it at 5. He was in kindergarten. We did the night time underwear because they were the only things that fit. His pediatrician said it was normal and that if he didn’t get it by 8 they would examine him for health problems. I was horrified. 8? LOL. Be patient momma!

    1. Oh my God. 8!?!?!?!

      I mean, I know that bed wetting is kinda normal until pubertyish or whatever… but I mean, it’s not supposed to be a regular thing, IS IT?


      I seriously wonder if I did it all wrong. If I should have done the no-diaper thing, you know? Or done the cloth diaper thing? I dunno. It just feels like this is an EXTRA pain in the butt transition for no reason. It seemed like such a simple and easy choice when they were newbies, but you pay for it… you really do!

      1. LMAO. Yep, I was shocked too. Many of our friends and family would say to whoop him when he wet the bed and we are against spanking for bed wetting. I said, some adults wet the bed. Munch stopped wearing the overnights on his own. He said he wouldn’t wet the bed and he doesn’t. He will occasionally have an accident, but it is so rare. I make sure that he goes to the bathroom before going to sleep. Good luck! It will get better.

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