Being a mother should really come with a warning. It is never what you expect when you are contemplating your first child. The charmed lives of mother and on tv make brooding women just plain stupid. Someone should snap them back to reality. Case in point. When I began to potty train my son I was told by every person place and thing around me that boys were easy to train. Boys are much easier to train than girls ,and people have so many wonderful ideas and tricks that make training a cinch. So Imagine my surprise when it took Quinton 2 years to completely train.
Quinton loved the attention he got when he was on the potty. He would sit there for an hour or more and never go. I would sing and read stories . I let him play with special toys, color in special books, watch special movies, and he wouldn’t go. We bribed him with stickers and rides on the 4-wheeler. Finally we got Quinton trained by letting him pee on a tree. He loved it. He wanted to pee on a tree all the time. I once caught him peeing on a tree at the post office. When he realized he could pee in the potty standing up he stayed dry all the time.
I was thrilled but we still had a problem. Number 2. Quinton began pooping standing up too. It was horrifying. Quinton had been in the bath one day and started screaming that he had to go. I had barely got him out of the tub when a giant turd shot out of him at mach speeds and landed with a splash in the toilet. I screamed Quinton thought it was hilarious. The problem ensued when he was constantly trying to reenacted the fateful splash. I would find him a full foot from the toilet trying to line up his shot. After a week he started hovering over the seat. I had to keep a constant vigil over him. I was exhausted from the poop patrol.
I had had enough of constantly cleaning up poo in the bathroom. One night I locked the door and set the potty up in the living room where I was watching TV. I took off Quin’s diaper and told him that he needed to poop out here in the toilet. I had been told an acquaintance that letting a kid run around without pants was a great way to train. THEY WERE WRONG!! You can not imagine what happened next. You don’t want to even think about it. It will ROCK YOUR WORLD......
Quinton came to me and let me know that he had pooped. He wouldn’t tell me where. I cleaned him up and put a diaper on him cursing my stupidity.
“Where did you poop”
“ In your bedroom” He said sheepishly
I ran into my room and began the search for the poop prize. Quinton was treating it like a game of hot and cold. I searched and searched but found nothing.
“Are you joking with mommy?”
“No I pooped Mommy”
“Where Quinton?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” (Yes my 3 year old said He didn’t want to talk about it.)
“Just tell mommy I won’t be mad.” I said sweetly.
“In your bed.”
“WHAT!”
“Quinton ran out of the room very quickly probably because my head had just exploded. I threw back the covers on my bed and nearly passed out. It looked like an elephant had did his business on my sheets. It was obvious that he had tried to clean up. He had used my pillow to wipe the schmeared spots. (schmear is a word right?) And my cute decorative pillow as scoop shovels. I would have been less upset if I had thrown back the covers and found a severed horse head. I just wanted to leave it. I wanted to set the bed on fire and never speak of it again, but we all know that as you make your bed of poo, so you must lie on it I cleaned, wept, cussed a bit, and cried a little more.
Ok I I cried... a lot. Quinton cried too mainly because I was crying. When I finally calmed down I asked him why he pooped in my bed. He had one simple answer for me...
“The bathroom door is locked Mommy.”
Quinton loved the attention he got when he was on the potty. He would sit there for an hour or more and never go. I would sing and read stories . I let him play with special toys, color in special books, watch special movies, and he wouldn’t go. We bribed him with stickers and rides on the 4-wheeler. Finally we got Quinton trained by letting him pee on a tree. He loved it. He wanted to pee on a tree all the time. I once caught him peeing on a tree at the post office. When he realized he could pee in the potty standing up he stayed dry all the time.
I was thrilled but we still had a problem. Number 2. Quinton began pooping standing up too. It was horrifying. Quinton had been in the bath one day and started screaming that he had to go. I had barely got him out of the tub when a giant turd shot out of him at mach speeds and landed with a splash in the toilet. I screamed Quinton thought it was hilarious. The problem ensued when he was constantly trying to reenacted the fateful splash. I would find him a full foot from the toilet trying to line up his shot. After a week he started hovering over the seat. I had to keep a constant vigil over him. I was exhausted from the poop patrol.
I had had enough of constantly cleaning up poo in the bathroom. One night I locked the door and set the potty up in the living room where I was watching TV. I took off Quin’s diaper and told him that he needed to poop out here in the toilet. I had been told an acquaintance that letting a kid run around without pants was a great way to train. THEY WERE WRONG!! You can not imagine what happened next. You don’t want to even think about it. It will ROCK YOUR WORLD......
Quinton came to me and let me know that he had pooped. He wouldn’t tell me where. I cleaned him up and put a diaper on him cursing my stupidity.
“Where did you poop”
“ In your bedroom” He said sheepishly
I ran into my room and began the search for the poop prize. Quinton was treating it like a game of hot and cold. I searched and searched but found nothing.
“Are you joking with mommy?”
“No I pooped Mommy”
“Where Quinton?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” (Yes my 3 year old said He didn’t want to talk about it.)
“Just tell mommy I won’t be mad.” I said sweetly.
“In your bed.”
“WHAT!”
“Quinton ran out of the room very quickly probably because my head had just exploded. I threw back the covers on my bed and nearly passed out. It looked like an elephant had did his business on my sheets. It was obvious that he had tried to clean up. He had used my pillow to wipe the schmeared spots. (schmear is a word right?) And my cute decorative pillow as scoop shovels. I would have been less upset if I had thrown back the covers and found a severed horse head. I just wanted to leave it. I wanted to set the bed on fire and never speak of it again, but we all know that as you make your bed of poo, so you must lie on it I cleaned, wept, cussed a bit, and cried a little more.
Ok I I cried... a lot. Quinton cried too mainly because I was crying. When I finally calmed down I asked him why he pooped in my bed. He had one simple answer for me...
“The bathroom door is locked Mommy.”
Quinton at Age 2 checking out his new potty
Quinton watching his special potty time show.
I will show this one to all his future girlfrieds
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