Potty Training V3.06.01 or the one with poop balls, broken phone and a thong
I thought my job as mother would be fairly challenging in some respects, but would always be worthwhile and meaningful. I was wrong. Well, I was wrong in which respects the challenges would come. This is part of our journey on what I like to call “The Potty Train.”
My toddler is almost three and now runs up to me and announces when she’s got a dirty diaper. Sometimes she’ll sweetly ask me to change her.
Then she runs away.
I have to beg, cajole and plead with her to come back and lie down so I can change her. I have to inform her about diaper rash and remind her she hates it and Mommy doesn’t want that to happen. Sometimes I have to chase her through the house and tickle her into submission.
Today she asked to be changed. I said “okay” and went for supplies. She hid behind my bed. I cajoled and begged. She said “Okay” and hid deeper. I found she had been leaving little poop balls in her wake where they’d escaped the confines of her Pull-Up as she ran through the house and jumped on my bed. (Daddy’s side…it’s ok. SHHHH)
I decided to change my tactic and not give her attention. I said I’d change her if she laid down and then I sat down at my desk to resume writing. This induced a toddler tantrum as she ran to the desk and asked me to change her. Again. I stopped typing –again– and said, “Okay.” She ran away. Again. I began typing – again– and she ran to the desk, knocked the phone to the floor and yelled “Change THAT!”
When, in the past 2 minutes, did she cross from Toddler to Teen???
Eventually she calmed down and I changed her. I had thought that “changing” meant simply removing the old pants, wiping her cute little butt and putting on new pants which would create a smiling, happy and comfortable baby.
What “changing” actually means is removing the old pants, trying to twist into some shape where I can wipe her without getting poodoo on my bed or on me or on her while I wipe her, then either sitting on her and putting her legs through new pants or having her step into new pants while I shake her up and down, thus creating a baby wedgie which makes her giggle and she runs off in her Pampers thong while I think to myself, “That can’t be comfortable.”
Apparently it is.
“Being a mom” encompasses way more aerobic activity than I had originally thought. On the bright side, I should be ready for the cover of Vogue by the time she’s in Kindergarten.
Potty Training V3.06.01 or the one with poop balls, broken phone and a thong,
Tags: bring me a vodka, daughters, Elisa Ashley, help me lord, mothers, potty training, preschoolers, sons, toddlers, where's the brownies, why me, working at home










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Elisa,
One of the great things about Expats is the number of gifted writers who can describe some of the least appealing things in waves that show the humor hiding within these events.
You have done this superbly with the dirty diaper experience.
Smiled, chuckled and laughed out loud as I read through this.
Thanks,
Larry
Woot!
Thank you for taking the time to read this, Larry. And for the compliment. I love it when I can make people laugh, cry, or try to hold down their lunch. >:D
I know first hand (and twice over) that “toddler to teen” is very much like “zero to sixty”. It happens before you know it. Don’t tell Daddy, but I’ve always believed (and never admitted till now) that fathers were better suited for changing diapers than mothers… something about a commanding voice in the face of Pampers Armageddon… hopefully, my secret is safe with you.
And every one of your new readers.
Thank you for assuming I will have new readers. We have attempted Daddy’s “commanding voice” and sometimes Abby won’t let him change her because of it. Then we’re greeted with a wailing chorus of “NO! MOMMY! MOMMY DO IT!” oy vey. Abby may think Daddy’s name is “Just hand me the wipes.”
Elisa, thanks so much for the laughs! One of my kids used to hide ‘raisins’ inside their toys rather than stop for a diaper change. Don’t despair. One day when you least expect it, they just get with the program. And think of how beautiful you will look on Vogue.
We revved up The Potty Train a while ago…she’s still just watching it ride by. Sometimes she waves. If I EVER find a smelly raisin anywhere other than…well…if I EVER FIND ONE PERIOD I will send it to you. Maybe I’ll sculpt it into a pleasing figurine first.
I, for one, am just so happy that you realized they were “poop balls”. This is child number 8… and you DIDN’T know they can go from toddler to teen in 2.6 seconds??? Trust me when I tell you they can go from teen to toddler just as fast.
Something for you to look forward to…again. I’m all about sharing the love.
Love your stories, and you tell them so well.
Ps… Daddy’s commanding voice? In my house that was cause for hysterical laughter…”Mum, Dad’s trying to be serious again!”
To her credit she pointed at the one on the bed and said, “Mommy?” I was all “Ummm…thanks for that.” I was aware youngin’s had the mood swings going on. This one was accompanied by the ‘change THAT’ and swooshing the phone to the floor. The other girls just stomped to their rooms and slammed the door.
As far as the reverse going on…Matt does it frequently. hahahaha.
Yeah…your kids know who wears the pants at your house…and it isn’t Dan.
I love watching people attempt to change their children’s diapers! Try as parents might, the kid is always the winner in the situation. Not only do they drive you insane, but they also force you to wipe crap out of their crack.
Well played, kiddies. WELL PLAYED.
It’s ok, Jen. In a few years she’ll be wiping crap out of MY crack while I drive her insane. We’ll be even.