So essentially, Chance is at a point where he has the potential to be completely potty-trained… but he’s not. Some of it is normal; he still gets too interested in playing to always stop and go to the bathroom. He doesn’t always tell me he has to go, so I have to make him take potty breaks. If he gets upset or over-stimulated, he’ll have an accident. And he still will run off and hide to poop in his pants.
But the biggest thing I noticed (or finally clued into) was that he was using accidents as payback. He has an accident and then runs away instead of getting cleaned up. Turns it into one huge game. It’s another way to push mommy’s buttons… and lately, he’s been big into pushing buttons. (Can you tell this totally makes me insane?)
The scene: Chance and I are playing together but he keeps pushing me with his feet. After I’ve told him to stop three times, and tell him I’m not going to play if he isn’t nice, I stop playing with him. I sit on the couch and pick up a book to read.
Chance pees his pants.
ME: “Oh kiddo! OK, let’s go get changed.”
CHANCE, watching me intently: “No!” laughs hysterically, starts to run off
ME, temper rising: “I’m not going to chase you, Chance. This isn’t a game. Let’s get cleaned up. You don’t want your butt to hurt, do you?”
CHANCE, more laughing, tries to hide
ME, (completely mentally snapping): “OK then, you know what?! When you’re ready to get changed, you let me know!”
CHANCE, stops laughing, looks at me warily
ME: stomp to kitchen, forget what I’m doing, stomp back, pick up something off floor
CHANCE, sees me coming back, starts laughing again
ME: “I’m not going to chase you! Are you ready to get changed?”
ME: “All right, you let me know when you’re ready.” I stomp back to Keen in the den and tell him what’s going on. “I’m going to go practice drumming. Don’t change him until he asks.” (Mean mommy!) I head outside and bang on things for a while.
Twenty minutes later I go in to get a tissue (damn allergies) and Chance has just gotten changed. I then invite him outside to play.
Ten minutes later, another accident.
ME, feigning nonchalance (but inside I’m still pissed from earlier): “Oops, looks like you’re wet! Do you want to get changed?”
ME: “All right, it’s up to you. You let me know.”
CHANCE goes back to playing.
Five minutes later.
CHANCE: “[I’m] cold, Mommy.”
ME: “Well, that’s because you’re wet, kiddo. You ready to get changed?”
ME: “OK, it’s up to you.”
Another five minutes later.
ME (because I couldn’t resist): “So are you going to have an accident in front of all your friends at school, too, and then stay in wet clothes?”
Five more minutes later.
ME (after the wind had kicked up a little): “Hey kiddo, ready to get changed?”
ME: “Let’s go.”
Get inside and Chance waits for me to undress him. (Which, honestly, up until this point I usually did. It was just faster that way.)
ME, not stepping in to help him at all: “OK, take off your clothes.”
CHANCE starts to tug at his clothes but still looks for my help
ME: “Nope, you’re a big kid. You can do it. Take off your shoes first.”
CHANCE takes off his shoes
ME: “OK, now take off your socks.” (The totally sodden, sticking to him socks.)
CHANCE wrestles socks off his feet
ME: “Good job! Now pull down your pants and underwear. Everything off!”
CHANCE gets out of pants and underwear
ME, giving him a quick wipe down and handing him new clothes: “Put your clothes on. I know you know how.”
Chance again pauses, waits for help
ME: “Go ahead. You’re a big kid, you can do it.”
CHANCE s-l-o-w-l-y pulls on all his clothes himself.
ME: “Great job, Chance! See, you’re such a big kid now I knew you knew how to do all that yourself. And when you have to go potty I know you can come in here and do that yourself, too.”
CHANCE, big beaming smile
That was Sunday. The
next time I asked him if he had to go pee he ran into the bathroom shouting, “I
can do it myself!” The next time he had
a (perfectly understandable) accident he 1) told me, and 2) when I said, “OK go
take off your pants” he ran into the bathroom and took off his pants. The angry, button-pushing peeing seems to have
stopped (God, I hope I’m not jinxing myself!), and best of all, he actually
pooped in the potty the other day! Then
the last time he tried to do the run and hide maneuver (to poop) all I had to
do was remind him of that great poop he made in the toilet and he went running
for the bathroom.
Who knew me having my own version of a tantrum would work out so well?
- the weirdgirl