Potty Training, Part II

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I believe I have mentioned that I am in the process of potty training my daughter. Here. And here. And here.

One of my friends pointed out that potty training is a process. Another one told me that it is a battle that I MUST WIN. Personally, I think it's a journey. An epic journey -- I am not sure who is playing the hero and villain roles, or who has been cast in the position of spiritual mentor, but I know this is an epic journey that is kicking my a@#.

My daughter will only use the toilet once she has started to pee and cannot fight any more as I rush her to the bathroom. She doesn't even try anymore to use the toilet. She tells me daily "Peepee and poopoo go in the potty. I've gotta keep my panties dry. If I put my peepee and poopoo in the potty, I can go to Disneyland!" But then, when she tells me she has to pee, she becomes hysterical when I suggest using the toilet. Absolutely hysterical. Sobbing, hitting, wailing.... when she does this when we are out in public, I am terrified someone is going to call child protective services.

I have tried everything. I have tried saying "Let's practice." I have tried to play the big sister card, telling her that she can show her brother what to do. I have tried bribery. I have taken things away. I have pretended indifference. I have begged. I'm out of ideas.

And what kills me is that SHE KNOWS. She knows what to do. She has done it in the past. I don't know what has traumatized her so that she won't any more. Was it my going away for a week? Was it expecting her to use the potty in new places? Was it the fact that the day we try ends in "Y"? I don't know how to help her make the connection that what she knows can be what she does.

Still, I stubbornly persist. No more diapers. No more pull ups. I must ask about 20,000 times a day "Do you want to go potty?" The answer is always no. Okay, no pressure -- she gets to make the call. I am doing about 2 loads of laundry a day -- on a good day. My son is almost potty trained because of this freaking "epic journey" -- but not my daughter.

I asked my daughter why she doesn't like to use the toilet anymore the other day when we were at the California Academy of Sciences in San Francisco. It's a great museum with a fabulous aquarium -- and I mostly saw the bathroom, since I was sitting on the floor of a handicapped stall with my daughter who kept telling me that "The peepee is coming, Momma. I can feel it." [Keep in mind, she can do this for hours. No lie.] Of course, I was counting my blessings that she told me she wanted to sit on the toilet at all.

"Jelly Bean, why don't you like to use the toilet?" I asked her.

"Because I scared," she told me.

That one took me aback. I knew I had to tread very very carefully here - after all, I didn't want to scar her for life.

"Hmm," I said, stalling for time. "You know you are my brave girl, and I love you. Sometimes it's scary to do new things, huh? What scares you? What are you afraid of?"

"Because I have to do it lots every day!"

I was speechless. What do you say to that -- she's afraid that she's going to have to use the bathroom for the rest of her life? How do I even address that fear? I mean, I could have gotten philosophical and waxed poetic about growing up. Or I could have been reasonable, and pointed out that everyone uses the bathroom for the rest of their lives. Or I could have made a joke. But how do I put any of this at a 3 year old's level?

I was saved from having to answer because just then the woman in the stall next to us used the facilities. When she was done, my daughter turned to me and said, "Don't get excited, Momma, that wasn't me."