The Baby Expert: Potty Time

With Caitlyn's school starting her on potty training, we figured we might as well follow suit. I actually haven’t researched too much on the subject because I haven’t been too eager to start. I’ve tried to hold off as long as possible because I just couldn’t bear to put away my precious green rug in the living room. But from what little I’ve read, it seems that potty training is not something to be pressured and that nature (pun intended) will eventually take its course when the time is right.

We actually bought her a potty trainer a few months ago, but for a long time, it was nothing more than a novelty and a play toy for her. She knew what it was for and would go through all the motions of sitting on it and pretending to go, but would never actually do it.

When we’re at home and we remember and aren’t lazy, we’ll have Caitlyn in her training pants, which forces us to be on high alert and constantly ask her if she needs to go pee. The majority of the time she says no, and if she does say yes, it’s usually a false alarm. And when she says she needs to pee, it's usually when she’s in the midst of actually going, which doesn’t really help the cause. But at least she seems to understand what we’re trying to accomplish here.

Well, this past Sunday, we might have had a breakthrough. Caitlyn said she had to go poo, so the wife rushed her to the potty. Imagine our surprise when she actually went in it for the first time. Of course, the elation was short-lived as an hour or so later, she peed in her pants while saying she had to pee. If we can somehow get her to acknowledge her need to go just a few seconds earlier, I think we can get this potty training thing down in a snap.

With a post about poop and pee, how could I not end this without a story of my own? Back in my early twenties, I was coming home from the gym one day and was stuck in traffic. My stomach started making those strange gurgling noises that tells you something bad is about to happen if a bathroom isn’t found immediately.

Unfortunately, being stuck on a highway with no real option, I did what my daughter does on a daily basis. I pooped in my pants. Actually, it was more like diarrhea. But either way, it felt great to relieve all that pressure that was building up against my sphincter.

However, once I got home, trying to make it up the stairs to the bathroom without anything dripping out was another matter. Thankfully, neither one of my roommates were at home so I didn’t have to explain why I was waddling into the apartment with my hands tightly wrapped around the bottom of my shorts.

Apparently, pooping in our pants runs in the family because my mom told us not too long ago how my dad had to diarrhea in his pants because he couldn’t find a bathroom after eating some spoiled food. Like father, like son, I suppose. Which leads me to wonder, will Caitlyn be saying, “Like father, like daughter,” when she grows up?