There, I’ve said it. Commence running screaming from the room.
People can bitch all they want about breastfeeding, but I’d rather breastfeed twice and skip potty training altogether. If anyone wants to trade, I am more than happy to wet nurse your baby for a year if you would please just come convince my kid to poop in the proper receptacle.
Any takers? Yeah, that’s what I thought.
The first one potty trained early because the orderliness of it all appealed to him. This second one? He’s been peeing in the potty for a year, but he continues to do it in his pants if we don’t take him to the potty on time. Worse still, we can’t just put him in underpants because the kid simply poops there.
He will not poop on the potty.
It doesn’t help matters that I have a baby person to care for so I can’t exactly follow him around watching for signs of pooping in his pants. Half the reason we got an au pair is to help train this freaking child.
He’d like to stand to pee all the time, but we will never train him to poop if we allow that, so we sit him down on the little pot. I think whoever designed those damned potties did so with an eye to tormenting me. Do they really think that little ledge is going to keep the pee in? Come on, people, half the toddlers have the type of equipment that points up when they pee.
So, I find myself hovering over him, admonishing, “Benjamin, pay attention to where your p-nis is,” which, come to think of it, is probably a life lesson in and of itself.
Note: I wrote this last week, and three days later, he was wearing underpants all the time. “I a big boy now,” he tells me, which translates to, “most of the time I can hold in my poop until you put me in a pull-up for naptime.”