“I need to hide!” my son exclaims as he scurries away with his tablet, retreating into the corner. I glance over without making direct eye contact, observing his furrowed brow as he becomes utterly absorbed in his screen. Meanwhile, he’s in the midst of a diaper disaster. I know better than to let him see me watching; it would only cause a meltdown.
Once his business is done, he gleefully returns to his previous activity, leaving me dreading what’s next: the dreaded diaper change. My little one seems perfectly content to lounge in his mess for hours, and even though diaper rash is a frequent visitor, it doesn’t deter him from his ways. With a resigned sigh, I scoop him up (tablet and all) and brace myself for the task ahead. He barely sits still long enough for me to clean him up before he’s off again.
As my son approached his second birthday, the inevitable question arose: when would I start potty training him? I brushed it off, insisting we’d tackle it when he was ready, confident in my laid-back approach. It wasn’t pure laziness—I genuinely despise changing diapers as much as he dislikes being changed. However, I quickly learned that my son is determined and will only do things on his terms.
While I don’t remember much from my own diaper days, my parents love to recount the challenges they faced while potty training me. My son has inherited some of my stubbornness, so I anticipated resistance. I took a relaxed approach during his second year but promised myself I’d be more proactive once he turned three.
For his birthday, his grandmother gifted him Thomas the Train underwear. He adores Thomas, but when I presented the gift, he declared, “No Thomas underpants!” and shoved them into a drawer. I had always encouraged him to join me in the bathroom while I did my business (even if I preferred privacy for number two), so I knew he understood what using the toilet meant. But he simply wasn’t interested. Every time we passed a store aisle with child-sized toilets, I would ask if he wanted to pick one out. “No potty!” he would shout, echoing through the store.
After his third birthday, I resolved to push through his protests. I refused to let him reach the largest diaper size, which is a hassle to find. Instead, I bought him pull-up training pants featuring Thomas, hoping he’d be more enthusiastic about those. He wasn’t impressed.
Changing my strategy, I decided one evening to remove his diaper altogether and see what would happen. I let him roam around the house in the nude, waiting for him to signal when he needed to go. He was making progress until I tried to put pants on him, which led to several accidents—no big deal. I even purchased fabric training pants, but he treated them like diapers. I eventually gave up after a significant mess in one of those.
Then, we experienced a breakthrough. One evening, while he was engrossed in play, I noticed too late that he started to pee. Acting quickly, I grabbed the nearest container—a large plastic tub—and held it in front of him. Surprisingly, it worked better than my hand. He glanced down and seemed to understand what was happening.
A few hours later, he called out, “Mommy, I need the cup!” I rushed to him with the container, and he successfully peed. At last, he was catching on! Though unconventional, I was willing to do whatever was necessary to make progress. So, whenever he’s awake and I’m home, he goes without pants, eagerly announcing, “I have to pee-pee!” when the moment strikes. He’s taken great pride in his newfound skills, even if he remains hesitant about the toilet. When he needs to poop, he still requests a diaper, and I allow him to use one at bedtime after he pees in the cup.
Now at 3.5 years old, while this method of using a cup and still relying on diapers for pooping isn’t what I envisioned, I firmly believe he’ll be fully potty trained by his fourth birthday. Despite the constant pressure from others, I trusted my instincts and allowed him to progress at his own pace. I’m not entirely sure why the cup is so comforting for him, but if it works, I’m all for it.
Like all aspects of toddlerhood, potty training is a marathon, not a sprint. I plan to gradually introduce underwear or the toilet soon. I’m confident that in a year’s time, he’ll be as adept at using the potty as if he had always known how. I sincerely hope so because I need him ready for pre-K, and the local program doesn’t accept kids in diapers.
For those navigating similar challenges, you can find helpful resources on fertility and home insemination at Medical News Today, and consider exploring this insightful post on artificial insemination kits for more information.
In summary, potty training requires patience and adaptability. Trusting your child’s readiness while providing encouragement can lead to success in their own time, even if the journey looks different than expected.