Isn’t parenting fun? When I have a childless friend ask what I do with my days, I have to laugh. I laugh, because I am anticipating the look of sheer horror that is going to spread across their face when I tell them. What I do with my days is use every ounce of creative energy I possess to strategize around other peoples’ bodily functions.
The Bear is taking to potty training like a pro. For him, the ability was there months and months ago but the motivation was totally absent. What worked was giving him a deadline to anticipate. Once the sun dawned on undies day, he has never looked back and has only had a few wee accidents. (Guffaw!)
Just one hitch: public restrooms give him the screaming heebie jeebies. The huge maw of the giant toilet, the loud echoing flushes, the pressure from mama to “just go already so we can move on with our day,” all combine to make him totally lose it if I start getting the folding potty seat out of my bag. (Another bonus for the childless friend: I carry a toilet seat in my purse.)What’s a mama to do? I could try only traveling as far as 15 minutes from home, so I can rush back at ninety miles an hour if he needs to go. Or I could pack a drawer full of spare outfits for all the accidents and line his car seat with trash bags. (Oooh, fun! Laundry!) Or a catheter, perhaps?
No. What I did is put a potty in the back of the van. After adding toilet paper and hand sanitizer, all our vehicle needs is some charming curtains and a newspaper or two to complete the complete bathroom vibe. But if it means I can get out and about and keep the Bear from exploding, I am all for it.
Now, he is good to go!