Conversations with Clara. Episode Nine.

Here are some of Clara's recent words of wisdom.

The other night, Clara is running around the laundry room playing a game she calls: "Stop.Go."  It involves her running around like a maniac and stopping when I say "Stop." and running again when I say "Go. " Clara thinks this is hilarious.

CLARA: (out of breath) Ok, Mama. Now it's your turn.  You run around and I'll say stop.

ME:  No, Clara.  I think I'll just sit here.

Clara, shakes her head slowly and walks over.  She climbs up onto the chair next to me and pats my knee.

CLARA:  Ok...let's talk about this.

*******

Or last night, the wonderfully potty trained Clara pooped in her overnight diaper while trying to fall asleep.  I change her diaper.

CLARA: UGGGGH!  What's that smell!!!???

ME:  That's your poop.  It's a lot less smelly when it goes in the potty, right?

CLARA:  YES!

Clara thinks for a minute while I finish changing her.

CLARA:  Mama...don't ever eat poop.

ME:  Good advice.

CLARA: Also, don't ever drink Wee wee.

ME:  Also good advice.

Clara clambers into her crib, and I try not to think what event may have prompted this sage advice.

Conversations with Clara...Episode 8.

Kicking back after lunch.

Over the past few weeks, Clara and by extension, her parents, have experienced the harrowing process known as potty training.  All I have to say about this period in our lives is: 1) I have never uttered the words  "poop" and "pee-pee" so many times in my life.  And 2) bribe your children with M and M's.

That being said, Clara has said some incredibly funny things recently, which helps you in the dark times when you're cleaning poop off her elbow and wondering how it got there.

Here are some excerpts:

CLARA: Let's read the magazine about poop.

(referring to the book, Everyone Poops.)

Gerald has managed to hold onto one shred of privacy by going to the bathroom with the door closed.  Clara does not like this turn of events, and often waits outside the door.

The other night, standing outside the door to the bathroom.

                                               CLARA: (eyes light up) I hear Pee-Pee!

                                               ME: (walking by) That's right.

                                               CLARA:  Dad is a big girl.

Clara, looking up at a guitar hanging on the wall out of her reach at a friend's house.  She considers ways to retrieve it, then gives up and lies down on the floor, dejected.

                                               CLARA: It's just no use...

Clara also takes occasional forays into more philosophical realms.

                                               CLARA: I'm little. You're big, Mama,  And Dada's big.
                                               I am small but one day I will be big.

Clara, discussing nighttime, or just stalling before bedtime.

                                               CLARA: Mama, it's not sunny out.  It's moony.

With her friends, (from left to right) LaLa, Meow Meow, and Magic.

Potty Training...Woe is me.

I will preface this by saying that until last week happened, I had decided that I was the Kung Fu Kickass Potty Training Mom of All Time Ever in the History of the World.  That would be my new title and other moms would come to me with their potty training troubles and I would console them and offer them my expert advice.

Let's rewind to better times...a week and a half ago to be exact. Back in those halcyon days where Clara told me whenever she had to pee or poop.  Where she happily sat on toilets with toddler rings, pottys, other people's toilets, and (when outdoors) her travel potty.  I had fond (if slightly embarassing) memories of sitting with Clara on a park bench, chatting as she counted flower petals into my hand while simultaneously pooping into her travel potty.  Where Clara's piping cries of "I Pooped!" I DID IT!" were  followed by high-fives all around and our patented Pee-Pee Dance.  Where Clara miraculously and unexpectedly was sleeping through the night without wetting her overnight diaper.  Where Clara wore cute Doc McStuffins underpants.  These golden days lasted for exactly one month.

Suddenly, and without warning, the poop and pee started hitting the fan.  "Mama, I have to poop" was replaced by "Mama, I pooped on couch."  "Mama, I pooped on floor." or most ominously: "Mama, I pooped on Mama."  I scrambled for a few days - insisting that this was just  a setback as Clara peed everywhere - through her underpants and clothes - onto everything.  Let me tell you - there is no worse cleanup than getting a fully dressed toddler out of underpants that have been pooped in.  It goes everywhere  - all over them and sadly, all over you.

So I relented and started putting Clara in Pull-Ups all day long.  I couldn't take it anymore.  And then the announcements stopped.  Forget about telling me anything.  The Poop Conversation was over. I was catapulted back  to the Dark Ages where poops were only announced by the stink wafting out of the diaper.

It's been  a week and a half.  Clara will try the potty after putting up a struggle but most of the time I pull down her pants to find that her business is already complete. 

I am hoping that this is just a setback.  That the novelty of "doing it right" has worn off and Clara simply needs a little break.   Or maybe she needs to work poop and pee-pee into her comedy act.   Like yesterday, when a routine game of Ring Around the Rosie ended abruptly when Clara announced: "I don't want to fall down, I pooped in my pants!"

 

I am resigned to waiting as long as I have to reclaim the title of Kung Fu Kickass Potty Training Mom of All Time Ever in the History of the World, or maybe I am just waiting for the time when I can go one full day without discussing another person's bodily functions.

Seriously, Clara...throw you Mama a bone here.

Reading a Potty Training Book at the Library. Very funny, Clara.

Potty training. Not for the faint of heart.

So after postponing the inevitable I decided this past Monday that the next day would be day one of potty training Clara.  I had done a bunch of research about the "signs" that your toddler is ready to be potty trained and Clara's behaviors neatly checked all the boxes.  

I had asked my mother for advice but her response was: "I have no idea, I had my mother potty train all of you.  It had something to do with pretty underpants."

After some research I decided to go with the three-day pants free potty training model.  If you're not familiar with this system, it involves being trapped with a naked, stir crazy toddler for three days in your New York City apartment.  You will also be stir crazy (though hopefully not naked) and will quickly develop an eagle eye instinct for impending pee or poop disasters.

Tuesday.  Day One.

Clara woke up and I took off her diaper.  She was interested in the fact that another diaper was not put on.  "I naked." she exclaimed.  

Three day potty training suggests you wait for the pee to start streaming down their legs and then quickly deposit them on the potty.  I was not ready for this kind of constant mess so I started placing Clara on the potty in 30-minute intervals to see what would happen.  The first three sit downs yielded nothing.  Clara would sit for a few minutes, playing with a toy or an app on her tablet and then would get up and say: "I done" even though nothing had happened.

Sit down four yielded results.  Clara heard the pee whizzing into the potty and her face lit up.  "I did it!  I did it" she shrieked and stood up.  We looked at the pee in the potty and took our first, ceremonial visit to the toilet.  We poured the pee out, Clara got to take some toilet paper, wipe herself, then throw the paper in the toilet.  She flushed the toilet and Clara and I did a Pee Pee victory dance with a lot of added High Fives."

The day marched on doggedly.  Dry potty, dry potty, Pee Potty - Pee Pee Dance - repeat.  Clara found a new passion for climbing all over me with her naked self whenever I sat down, occasionally asking plaintively: "Outside?" or "Playground?"  All day long I kept my eye on her - watching for any accidents to happen.  They didn't.  Gerald worked late that night, so I put Clara to bed and celebrated my well-earned respite from thinking about pee by falling asleep early.

Wednesday. Day Two.

After a low point where naked Clara snuck behind the Barca lounger and peed while standing up, it was getting better.  Each time I asked Clara to sit on the potty, she did it and after a few hard-thinking minutes, she would pee.

A new iteration in the routine, Clara decided that after she went she would shout: "I did it - I POOPED!"  Never mind the fact that it was pee, everything was now 'poop' to naked Clara.

Gerald came home that afternoon to a zoned out wife and manic naked child.  But it felt successful. It felt like it might work.  I made the mistake of chatting with my husband in the kitchen while Clara darted into the living room.  A few minutes later I heard her say: "Poop!  There's POOP." I walk into the living room to find Clara standing on the leather Barca lounger pointing down at a pile of poop that is...also on the Barca lounger. 

Clara invented a game of supermarket shopping to alleviate the monotony.

Thursday. Day Three.

Everything has clicked into place for Clara. She no longer needs to be told to go on the potty, instead loudly exclaims: "I'M POOPING." as her signal for me to help her to the potty.  

All went well until the afternoon. Clara was standing on a step stool, playing in the bathroom sink with cups and washcloths.  I walked out of the bathroom for a moment - maybe to actually get something done - and came back to - Clara, standing on the step stool with a neat pile of poop also on the stepstool. "I POOPED!"

I go out that night with a friend.  Gerald is left alone with Clara.  She immediately pees on the floor twice.  Gerald is discouraged.

Later Clara impresses him with an unsolicited pee in the potty.

Friday. Day Four.

I feel comfortable enough to take Clara to the playground for a few hours.  We are both relieved to be outside and running around.  Clara dutifully asks for the potty and goes pee, then runs back to playing.  It's great.

Clara is reunited with her favorite patch of dirt.

No poop all day.  This isn't going to end well.

Saturday. Day Five.

I leave for work early in the morning after surviving a four a.m. wake up call from Clara who insisted on using the potty.  Gerald is on his own.  Excellent use of the potty - no pee accidents.

And then it happened.  Clara was playing happily in the living room.  She got up, presumably to get another toy from her room.  Instead, it was an elaborate subterfuge in order to enable pooping in private. Gerald suddenly heard the ominous: "I'M POOPING!"

Poop on the rug - all over the rug.  Almost two days worth of poop.  Clara was very excited and wanted to help clean it all up.

We are into Day Six now, and despite Clara preferring to poop while walking, reminding me of the famous film of Bigfoot walking into the woods (except with poop) she seems to be totally potty trained. (please.)

The Wonderful World of a Toddler...What the @#!????

Is there anything more wonderful than watching a 19-month old explore a snowy wonderland?  How awesome was it that Clara got to be the first kid down this slide - covered in 5 inches of fluffy snow?  She slid down and laughed as she plopped into her own self-created pillow of snow.  Then she went down the other slide and laughed even harder.  It was fun chasing her around and lobbing snowballs at her that she would pick up and taste. And then I flash backed to the scene upstairs in the apartment a mere hour earlier.

I had received a call from work looking for some receipts.  As I talked at my desk, Clara was sitting on the floor to my right - in my extreme peripheral vision.  All seemed well.  She was babbling to herself.  I was on the phone for all of two minutes.  TWO MINUTES!  

I turned to my lovely little daughter and was greeted with:  Clara, no diaper on, holding out something to me which I quickly realized was a small, round piece of poop she had picked up from the big pile of poop she had just POOPED ON THE FLOOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I scooped Clara up in my arms (ignoring the poop pile for the moment), brought her to the changing table, and cleaned her off.  All the while Clara happily said: P.U! P.U!

P.U. indeed, Clara.  P.U.

Potty Time = Party Time

After reading endless suggestions and idea of how to introduce children to the potty and toilet training I decided to embark on the potty journey while suppressing shudders of dread at attacking this new, vital hurdle.

I started this with no knowledge of potty training.  Seriously, who does have experience with these things?  It turns out my mother felt boondoggled by the idea of potty training and passed that task off to my grandmother, Mimi.  I have heard vague stories of how she enticed us not to pee in our pants by giving us fancy underwear to wear.  But my grandmother passed away, taking her magical secrets of potty training to her grave.

There are many ways to approach potty training.  I understand that Clara is only 15 months and has quite some time to go before actually being able to reliably control her bowels.  But I did read about how children sometimes get afraid of the potty if it is introduced abruptly and that can  delay toilet training for months.  This made sense.  How is Clara to know what this new, child-sized chair/bowl thing that magically appeared in the bathroom one day is?

 First  you have to understand that since since Clara has been able to crawl I have had to throw bathroom privacy out the window, which means that Clara is always looking on with interest as I drop my pants to use the toilet.  As embarrassing as this is, you get used to it.

The introduction of the new potty has added a wrinkle to the "Mom and Clara go to the bathroom together with the door open" episodes.  When I sit down, I ask Clara if she would like to sit down and go pee-pee and then I sit her on the potty.  The first few times she sat down she immediately stood up and took the potty apart and threw it in the bathtub.  

A week into this process, she will sit and try standing and sitting back down herself.

Today, after getting home from a long walk in the park and feeding her lunch I decided I was too frazzled to sit Clara down and do the whole song and dance.  Lo and behold...Clara walked over to me and squatted like she wanted to sit on the potty, all with no prompting!  I moved her to the potty and she happily sat there while I finished up my business.

Of course...there are the situations that make me think she really isn't getting it.  Like this one - last night.  She had pulled all of the dollar bills out of my pocket and I found her in the bathroom doing this.

As my friend Sindy said when she saw this picture:  "Well, there's money down the toilet."