babyfruit: the miscarriage blog and motherhood diaries

Widdle, Piddle, Pee - Or Potty Training a Toddler

Image via Wikipedia

I've read books, articles, blog posts about potty training, and am still stymied. Just like pregnancy books didn't prepare me for labor and parenting books haven't prepared me for parenting, I'm totally confused about why my very smart little almost 3-year old girl seems to LIKE to pee in her pants.

First, for those readers who don't know me, I'm a relatively unconventional parent. I try to take in all the information but then take a lot of the lead from my child. I try to be intuitive. I try to be firm and consistent but not unreasonable and irrational. With all my bitching and moaning about motherhood, I basically try to be a mother to my child by following my heart more than head. The kind of mother I wish I had had.

Another thing to know is that NG ASKED us to potty train her last year. In the midst of my trying to understand how to potty train a child, she basically started saying she wanted to go to the potty and kept prodding me to take her to go. So G. and I relented early on and did our best to help her with this newfound skill.

But now, she:
1. Refuses to go potty. If we ask her, she says she doesn't have to go. If we tell her it is time to go, she fights it as if we are punishing her.
2. Wets herself and doesn't say a word and would happily sit in her pee for hours if we'd let her.

In the last week, for example, she has sat at breakfast and ate, held a conversation with us, then asked to be excused from the table. She got down from her seat and went into the other room. Only then did I notice that there was a puddle of pee at the foot of her chair.

She has peed on the sofa, peed in her car seat, peed on the carpet. And this happens several times a day. Do I have a toddler or a new puppy?!?

I'm taking her in to the local clinic next week to at least check for an infection of some kind - bladder, urinary tract, or even a yeast infection that might be making it hard for her to hold back her pee. She isn't complaining about pain all the time, just once in a while says her "girly parts" hurt. Sometimes she is red, sometimes not.

There really doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to any of this. Half the time she seems terrified of the toilet, especially in public places (hey, I can understand that to a certain degree), especially the loud flushes.

We're doing a ton of laundry, usually 2-3 outfits a day soaked through with pee. We're still using a pullup for nighttime and naptime and try to specify the difference. She asks almost all the time to wear panties during the day. But if we put a pullup on her as "punishment," she doesn't mind a bit. In fact, any "punishment" we offer for her pantie peeing is met with sass.

"Are you gonna spank my bottom?" she asks coyly.

"Do you want me to spank your bottom?" I ask, incredulous.

"Yes, I want you to spank my bottom."

In fact, I sat her down the other day and told her how disappointed we are that she is still peeing in her panties and how much work it is for us to clean up after her.

I asked her "What do YOU think we should do? If you pee in your panties, how should we punish you?"

"Spank my bottom," she replied.

"Really? You want us to spank your bottom each time you pee in your pants?"

"Yes," she replied.

So I started to do that. I hate hitting her at all, but it was just a swift swat when I'd find she was wet through and through. At first she was shocked.

"You told us to spank your bottom," I reminded her.

Then she'd cry and apologize for peeing in her pants.

And then she'd pee again later that day or the next day.

Yes, we've tried a pee chart. We'd let her put a sticker on the chart after each successful pee in the potty. That worked for a day. Then she peed again in her pants. So I thought of putting a big black X when she peed.

"You don't want to get those big bad X's," I explained.

Then she decided that she DID want to get black X's and would excitedly ask for a black X each time she peed in her pants.

And because she is so smart, I've even sat down to reason with her.

"Why are you still peeing in your pants?" I asked her.

"I don't know," she said.

I realize that at her age she still doesn't have the ability to articulate when she is sad, mad or frustrated - they all seem to come out as the same emotion and she has no words yet for the differentiations. Sometimes, I can go through a litany of emotions and then suddenly hit on the right one. But so far, I haven't found the word to match why she seems to deliberately pee in her pants.

The worst is that when she is found out, when we see the pee puddle or feel the wetness all down her pants, she just...laughs.

What in the world is going on here? What is the right thing to do?

TLC-Slice of Life: Do Children Make You Happy? Maybe

TLC-Slice of Life: Do Children Make You Happy? Maybe.

My friend Joelle Klein blogs for The Learning Chennel and also visited the topic about children and happiness as I did here.

Have to admit I'm a bit envious about her mommylove, but it is what it is for me, and I've learned to stop pummeling myself over my strange mommy self.

Stop on over to her blog for another perspective!

Do Children Make You Happy? Maybe.

Butt Massage

I'm a little alarmed about something but am just sitting back and being observant at the moment rather than reactionary.

Recently, NG has been asking for a butt massage at night when I'm laying in her bed before she goes to sleep. It sounded innocent enough because, well, she's an innocent toddler. However, it made me question where she heard about getting a butt massage.

That isn't like her calling me a butthead as if she learned a new bad word from her friends or saying she wants a regular massage. She clearly wanted me to massage her rear end and was very upset when I wouldn't.

"Honey, mommy can massage your shoulders or your neck or your back. I can massage your arms and legs and feet. But we don't usually do butt massages," I said, wondering if I was being prudish, hoping I didn't make it sound like an evil thing to massage a toddler's bottom. But I was still just wondering: Was someone else massaging my toddler's bottom?

"Come on, mommy. Give me a butt massage!" she said again.

"Honey, where did you learn about butt massages?"

Silence.

"Honey, did someone give you a butt massage?"

Silence.

"Honey, it's okay. Mommy isn't mad, I'm just trying to figure out where you learned about butt massages."

Silence.

"Sweetie, you can tell me if someone else is massaging your butt. Mommy just wants to know."

Silence.

"Honey, did someone tell you not to tell mommy and daddy about the butt massage?"

NG nodded silently.

Now what, I thought? I didn't want her to feel like I was grilling her or angry with her. I was afraid to press the issue further, but I was concerned now.

"Honey, please tell mommy who told you that. You need to know when someone tells you 'don't tell your mommy and daddy,' they might be doing something bad. But that doesn't mean you're bad. And it doesn't mean that mommy and daddy will be mad at you. Mommy and Daddy will always protect you. We love you."

Okay, I was feeling pretty proud of myself for that one. And of course, I meant it.

Then she told me who was massaging her butt. It was the same child that I'd been gently warned about by another mother for this child's inappropriate behavior (translation: sexualized). The same child I walked in on pulling NG on top of their body (both clothed) on bed saying "lay on top of me, lay on top of me."

At least I identified who was teaching my almost 3-year-old about butt massages.

Now what?

I hugged NG so she knew I wasn't mad at her. But I was not sure what to do or say next.

I did pose the question to some other moms (all of whom said it seemed like an issue worth paying attention to) and also the question about this behavior was posed to friends with law enforcement connections. Someone with experience in this realm was also consulted.

The consensus was to be aware of my own child and to be vigilant when my child was in the presence of this other child. But not to bring it to the parents' attention at this time.

I'm following the advice of professionals, however, it is still an issue that is bugging me.

What would YOU do in a similar situation?

America's Worst Mom Strikes Back

We are all America's Worst Moms, aren't we? At least at some time or another. I know I feel that way, probably more often than most. That is why I'm drawn to the stories of Lenore Skenazy and Ayalet Waldman, both considered America's Worst Moms by the media, society, everyone except other moms who are honest about their feelings.

In Lenore's case, I just came across this article in The Week about how last year she caused a huge media stir because she let her 9-year-old son ride the Manhattan subway home. I missed that "scandal" living in Alaska where we get criticized for letting our children out of the house in minus 45 degree weather (not to play, mind you, but to get into the warm car to drive to a warm place).

I've corresponded with Lenore in the past, and she's a smart, sassy, talented woman. I can totally relate to her account of the Worst Mom incident and subsequent maelstrom. People in our society are generally intolerant of mothers who step outside the boundaries of their completely unrealistic standards and ridiculous molds to do something heartfelt, honest, different.

Lenore's Worst Mom crime? Empowering her intelligent, resourceful and curious son with the means to explore his environment without an overprotective parent looming down on him like a vulture, ready to feast on his confidence because of their own irrational fears. Her whole Free Range Kids movement and book address this parenting pitfall.

Ayalet Waldman did something different - far less endangering of her children but far more sinister in the minds of "society." She dared to confess in a New York Times essay "Truly, Madly, Guiltily" that she loved her husband more than her kids. Shock. Horror.

According to her Wikipedia page:

The essay explores her conviction that a woman should consider her spousal relationship more important than her relationships with her children. She writes that a clear hierarchy of love is essential to a stable and healthy marriage. Waldman summarizes her ideal family dynamic: "[W]e, [husband Michael Chabon] and I, are the core of what he cherishes... the children are satellites, beloved but tangential."

Waldman posits that children who are made aware of their secondary rank in their parents' affections "are more successful, happier, live longer and have healthier lives" than those who grow up with different expectations.

I totally agree with Waldman. If you think about it, we divorce our spouses far more often than we divorce our children and if we put our partners first in our hearts, then we'll hopefully have a stronger, more stable and loving relationship to show our children who will be so much better off in life seeing that than thinking they are the center of the universe and the most loved.

I've lived in a microcosm of this scrutiny every day that I blog about my true feelings and my less-than-"normal" parenting style and my self-doubt as a mother and resentment of motherhood and all the other lovely things swirling in my head and heart. Any good mommyblogger probably experiences the same scrutiny because they dare to express the not-so-perfect moments of their lives as mothers.

I still refuse to buy into the "isn't being a mother grand" and "aren't our children the miracles of our lives" style of motherhood. When anyone asks me "don't you love being a mother," I respond without guilt "Not really. Maybe sometimes." I can't tell you how many stunned individuals recoil from me as if I were Medusa with snakes coming from my head ready to devour my young. But occasionally, I get an awkward laugh and a "wow, that's honest."

I would rather live my life as a human being, a woman, a wife, a mother, and all the other roles I play this year being totally and brutally honest than sticking my head up my butt in self-denial or lying through gritted teeth to tell people what they want to hear. If more people did this, we'd have far less ambiguities, far fewer unrealistic expectations and misunderstandings. I, for one, would feel like I fit more into the world.

But since we don't and I don't, I just blog about this stuff because I know my kindred souls are out there somewhere. All you Bad Mothers, unite! We're not really so bad, anyway. We're just human.

What do you think about all these Bad Mothers controversies?

Related articles by Zemanta

• Parenting memoirs from Ayelet Waldman and others. (slate.com)
• She Put Son on Subway at Age 9: Bad Mom? (abcnews.go.com)
• Why free-range kids are on the rise (thestar.com)
• Ayelet Waldman: Bad Mother (time.com)
• Why You Need To Stop Worrying About Your Children (huffingtonpost.com)
• Lenore Skenazy discusses the Free Range parenting movement with WaPo (wileyptnews.com)

Are You Happy?

My toddler has a new favorite phrase:

Are you happy?

I don't know where she got it from - it isn't something I've asked her before. And G. said he wasn't the one to bring it up.

She asks it when she is sitting on the toilet right after she has peed in her panties yet another time.

"Are you happy?" she asks with a forced giggle and grin.

"Well, no, I'm not happy that you peed in your pants again," I respond carefully. "But in general, yes, I am happy."

"If you're happy, smile! You can smile!" she exclaims, and I muster a teeth-gritting smile.

But I think I detect a little quiver of panic in her voice as she looks to me for reassurance that yes, indeed, mommy is happy.

It seems like she is asking for reassurance that even though she peed in her pants, I still love her, that her lack of potty training isn't making me too unhappy - or angry.

I'm fascinated how she seems so sensitive to how her actions make me feel and how at such an early age she is hungry for approval and acceptance. I think we are all like this from the get go. Some of us never get over that people-pleasing tendency or obsession. I know a lot of adults who go through life constantly seeking that approval in obvious and subtle ways.

This makes me realize how fragile these moments are early in a child's life, the balance so delicate. We can either pause for those moments and try to understand what our innocent children are really asking us and do our best as human beings to respond with love, or we can crush their tiny spirits and help produce more damaged adults.

Big fucking responsibility. Not sure if I'm up to it, although I do love a challenge. All I can do is my best which varies from day to day, moment to moment.

What are those moments when you really feel you could make or break your child's confidence?