The 5 Stages of Potty Training Regression

So, in my last post I noted that Baby M was no longer having daytime accidents.  We've had a bit of a regression since then.  He is now pooping his pants once or twice a day.  He still happily pees in the potty and generally wakes up dry, but he has no interest in getting his poops into the potty.  He will run behind the table where I can't reach him and insist he's not pooping while I try to convince him to come with me to the bathroom.  He poops his pants at the park, at school, at home, whenever he gets the urge. Oddly, he abhors wet underpants but doesn't seem to mind having poop in his pants at all and will go on about his business until I drag him kicking and screaming into the bathroom.

This has been going on for a little over a week and I have passed through all 5 stages of potty training regression.

Denial - Initially I convinced myself it was just a one off accident or a bad day or a few bad days...

Anger - I am not proud to admit that I yelled.  I waved poopy underpants in his face.  I told him he couldn't wear his favorite pirate underpants because they were covered in f@#*-ing poop.  Then I felt like the worst mother in the world, cried and apologized.  It was not my finest moment.  In fact, it was probably my worst parenting moment ever.

Bargaining - I brought the sticker charts back out, I promised trips to Travel Town, as the days wore on I threatened to take away his 30 minutes of TV time (which I did but it was harder on me than him and didn't make a difference anyway).

Depression - I looked back at my schizophrenic behavior over the past week, at the way I did all the things I said I wouldn't do, the things every book and web site tells you not to do, and wondered why the heck I was having another child when I couldn't even manage a week of poopy underpants without a major freak out.  I also ate a lot of ice cream.

Acceptance - I bought a tub of Oxiclean and a bucket for soaking poopy clothes. I keep my diaper bag stocked with plastic bags.  I realize there is no way I can force Baby M to poop in the potty. If I can't fight it, I might as well prepare for it.  I now simply praise him for using the toilet, remind him that poop goes in the potty and try to keep everything clean with as little drama as possible.  At some point he will decide pooping in his pants is not worth the trouble of getting cleaned up.

I don't know what, if anything, brought on the regression.  Maybe the novelty of the potty wore off.  Maybe Baby M saw how upset all the poop was making me and liked getting a response.  Maybe it's a delayed reaction to starting preschool or an advanced reaction to the impending birth of his brother.  Hopefully my new Zen attitude will encourage him to go back to the potty.  If not, you should seriously consider investing in Oxiclean, because at 2 poops a day, we're going through a lot of that stuff.

3 Day Potty Training - Kinda

So I've been meaning to write a post about potty training Baby M.  About 3 weeks ago I finally took plunge and committed to getting him potty trained.  A friend of a friend had success with Lora Jensen's 3-day Potty Training Method so we decided to give it a try.  I should note that the friend tried the method a week later without much success, but by that point I had already bought the e-book, blocked out the 3 days on our calendar and stocked up on underpants so we decided to go for it.  It's probably also worth mentioning that we had tried a more "child-directed" version of potty training a few months prior.  We made the potty available, bought cool underwear and encouraged Baby M to wear them for a few hours on the weekends.  That process ended up with Baby M ripping off his underpants, attempting to diaper himself and more or less stating that the potty was not for him.  After taking a few months off, I decided it was time to try something a little more "parent-directed."

The general idea  of the 3-day method is that you put your child in underpants 24 hours a day, ask him to tell you when he needs to use the potty and rush him to the toilet the minute he starts to go in his pants.  This pretty much requires you to be next to your child around the clock.  If he has an accident you don't reprimand or make a big deal about it, but you do reward any bit of success with praise, stickers and/or prizes.  (I know this completely contradicts my whole Unconditional Parenting philosophy which eschews rewards as well as punishments, but I decided 3 days of praise and rewards wouldn't scar Baby M for life.  Plus, I really wanted him out of diapers before Baby #2 came along.)

I knew staying home for 3 days straight was going to be difficult for us-- Baby M and I go out at least once and usually twice a day.  We have classes, play dates, parks to visit, shopping etc.  So I prepared.  I stocked up on food, planned art and cooking projects, and recorded new TV shows for him to watch.  I thought I had at least 2 days worth of activities planned.  Well, four hours into Day One I was out of activities.  Those first three days were rough.  Baby M went through 8 pairs of underpants a day.  He begged to go to the park.  He said he couldn't figure out how to poop sitting down (his preferred method was standing).  Even though he had been waking up dry for weeks he started wetting the bed, sometimes twice a night.  And even if he didn't wet the bed he would wake up crying hysterically at 4am and want to be carried around the house like a newborn.  

At the end of the 3 days, though he had made progress, I would not claim to anyone that Baby M was potty trained.  The number of accidents was way down but he hadn't pooped for 2 days, and his sleep was still a mess.   So I wrote the Lora Jensen helpdesk for advice.  The e-book purchase includes free online mentoring and here is where the $24 I spent on a 50 page e-book really felt worth it.  I received a prompt, encouraging response with some explicit techniques to deal with the problems we were having.  Some of them were a little odd (I could not bring myself to tell Baby M that Mommy's poops were lonely in the toilet and needed some company) but they were effective.  By Day 7 there were no more daytime accidents and now, 3 weeks later, we only have the occasional nighttime accident.  Baby M is still not sleeping great, but his sleep has always gone in phases, so I'm not sure how much of that we can attribute to potty training.  Overall, I'm pleased with the method and results and am glad that we got through the worst of it before the new baby arrives.

First Day of Preschool

Today was Baby M's first day of preschool.  And to answer the most common question I've been getting... no, nobody cried. He didn't cry.  I didn't cry.  I like to think this just shows how well adjusted we both are, but based on some of the reactions I've been getting I guess this makes me something of a freak. Apparently, it's fine that Baby M didn't cry, but I should have been holding back the tears, peering through the gate and counting the minutes until I picked him up again.

Now maybe it's because today was really just a taste of preschool-- 2 hours with only half of the new kids attending.  Two hours gave me just enough time to drop my husband off at work, stop at the bank and pick up a few things at the grocery store before heading back to collect Baby M.  Perhaps if he'd been away longer I'd have worked myself into a tearful frenzy like the other mothers waiting outside the gate, but I don't think so.  I'm happy Baby M is growing up.  I'm proud that he's able to take on some independence and I'm excited about some of the things he's going to be learning. I'm confident that the preschool he's attending is a safe environment with caring teachers and good kids.  And I would be lying if I said I wasn't looking forward to the 12 hours a week that I get to reclaim for myself (at least until Baby #2 arrives).  Sure I felt a twinge of wistfulness that Baby M didn't need me the way he used to, but it was overshadowed by the satisfaction of looking at how far Baby M has come over the last 3 years.

Baby M talks to the Bump

Every so often I ask Baby M if he'd like to say anything to his brother.  Usually he replies, "No, I'll just wait until he comes out."  Other than a brief infatuation with my popped out belly button, Baby M has not been terribly interested in the new baby.  Yesterday, however, when I asked if he'd like to talk to his brother he said "okay."  He knelt down, put his face close to my belly and shouted, "Hey!  Can I get a glass of water?"  Somehow I think Baby M's got the big brother thing down.

The Unhappiest Place on Earth

We took Baby M to Disneyland last weekend.  It seemed like such a good idea.  He is a few months away from 3 years old which means he is tall enough to go on most of the rides but still gets into the park for free.  He is familiar with some of the Disney characters from YouTube videos and really likes Goofy.  Baby M has generally been good with crowds, loud noises, and new experiences.  I thought he would have a blast.

The trip did not go well.  It started off so promising.  We met up with some of my extended family and took the shuttle bus to the park.  Baby M could barely contain his excitement.  He happily walked down Main Street, watched a marching band and walked through Sleeping Beauty's Castle.  We rode the carousel and then tried to convince him to go on the Dumbo ride.  He took a look at it and shook his head no.  So, and here is where we made our big mistake, we decided to try Mr. Toad's Wild Ride.  Now this was one of my favorite rides as a kid, but I'd forgotten how scary it could be for a young child. Baby M happily climbed into the little car with his dad and grandpa, but once the ride started getting dark and loud, crashing through walls and descending into hell he was more than a little frightened.  He kept repeating "I want to go back" with increasing frequency and volume until finally the ride ended.

After that he just wanted to leave the park.  Every few minutes he would say "I want to go back to the shuttle bus and go to our car and go home."  We dragged him on the tamest ride we could find-- The Storybook Land Canal Ride, a slow moving boat that floats past miniature villages in broad daylight, but he cried to get off the whole time. We tried Toon Town, which has a small playground I thought  he might like, but it also has firecrackers going off every few minutes so that was a no go.  Honestly, I'd never seen Baby M so agitated.  I felt awful.

We decided to give up on the rides and get some lunch on the Tomorrowland Terrace.  We had a great table near the stage where cast members were putting on the "Jedi Training Academy" but Baby M refused to sit anywhere near it so we found a table behind the stage and next to a well placed pillar that completely blocked the show from his view.  Baby M picked at his Mac N Cheese until, suddenly, a hidden platform rose up next to us revealing in a cloud of mist Darth Vader, waving around his light saber and threatening the Jedi.  That was it.  Baby M was out of there and my husband carried him around Tomorrowland until the rest of us finished eating.

We walked around the park a little more, hoping something would entice Baby M, but he had made up his mind-- Disneyland was the scariest place on earth and he wanted out of there.  He was even scared of the paddle boat that steamed by us as we strolled down the sidewalk.  Aside from the carousel, we did find two other activities that Baby M enjoyed in Frontierland- the petting zoo and a cabin with free coloring pages.  We probably should have just gone to Griffith Park.  On our way out we stopped for dinner at one of the Main Street restaurants and once Baby M saw there were no more rides with "scary tunnels" he enjoyed eating a hot dog while watching the parade.   We even stopped and took a reasonably happy picture with Mickey Mouse.

I always thought of Baby M as this fearless explorer, but looking back I realized that I missed some of the signs that his personality is evolving.  I remember him as the baby who would crawl over to the big kid playground without looking back and not the toddler who was frightened during the planetarium show;  the boy who comforted the dog during our neighbor's illegal firework display and not the one who refused to the enter the darkened room showing a film about storms at the museum.  It seems Baby M is becoming more cautious, and yes, more fearful as he grows up.  He now requires a nightlight to sleep, greets new experiences with trepidation and literally requires hand holding when entering unfamiliar places.  This may all just reflect an increased awareness of his surroundings and a more developed imagination that allows him to conceive frightening scenarios.  Or maybe Disneyland really did scar him for life.  We'll just have to wait and see.

Baby on the Way

So, I am 21 weeks pregnant.   Everything is going well with the pregnancy and it appears that in November we will be adding a new baby to the family.  I am not very good at telling people that I am expecting.  My general approach is just to show up in my maternity wear, mention nothing and make everyone slightly uncomfortable until some brave soul finally asks, "So, um, you're pregnant, right?"  I know this is weird, but I can't seem to find another way to do it. Because of my past history with miscarriages we put off telling people about the baby and now it just seems we waited too long.  We delayed announcing partly because untelling people that you're pregnant sucks, but mostly because I never feel as excited as everyone else expects me to be.  Four months into the pregnancy, I'm still worried about finding a heartbeat while everyone else is wants to talk nursery decor.   But now that we've made it past the 20 week mark, I am feeling more confident.  I'm still getting there on the excited thing, but I'm making progress.    

We did tell Baby M that we'll be bringing home a baby brother for him soon.  His reaction was, "I hope it has duck feet."  He also offered a name suggestion- "Flombu".  We took him to our 20 week ultrasound where we hoped to set his expectations on the feet thing ("Look!  You can see the baby's totally normal human feet!") but he got bored and asked if he could go back out to the waiting room and play with some toys.  Since he doesn't really seem to be getting this whole baby thing, I've been on the look out for some age appropriate books and toys to help him prepare for the upcoming change.

The first book we got was Baby on the Way by Martha & William Sears.  It's a very sweet book which describes pregnancy as feeling like "love is growing inside [you]" and tries to give a children some insight into what's happening to their mother.  Pregnancy symptoms like queasiness, hunger and fatigue are related back to the child's own experiences.  However, with Baby M this approach backfires. When the books states mommy's tummy feels yucky like "when you eat three slices of birthday cake and ice cream" it completely loses Baby M.  How could there be too much cake?  Granted, Baby M has never had 3 pieces of cake in one sitting, but it sure sounds good to him.  And birthdays are fun too.  And I'm going to be 3 on my next birthday.  Can I have a fish superhero party?  Baby M completely loses focus.   I've started just skipping that section altogether.  But I do think Baby M is making progress too.  A friend crocheted Baby M a doll with a removable hat and diaper and he spent an entire afternoon changing the baby's diaper (the doll is awesome, you can check out her etsy store here).  And tonight Baby M walked over, planted a kiss on my belly and said it was for the baby.  Now who couldn't get excited about that?

Granola

I keep reading about these toddlers who just love helping their parents.  They happily clean up, fold laundry, and set the table.  For the most part, this is not true of Baby M.  If I say, "Hey, do you want to help me with something" he will most likely answer "No" and go about his business.  If I leave an unfolded basket of laundry out it will soon become an upside down laundry "cake" in the middle of the floor.  However, there is one place where he does love to help, the kitchen.

The minute I start prepping something in the kitchen he is there shouting "I want to help yooouuuu!"  Of course, when I suggest that the best way for him to help me would be to pick up the crayons all over the kitchen floor, he is not interested.  He wants to crack the eggs, saute the veggies and chop the carrots.  I don't want to discourage his culinary aspirations so this lead me to seek out safe activities that he could help me with.  We ended up doing quite a bit of baking, which is fine, but we really don't need another batch of cookies in the house, even if they are the healthy oatmeal ones from Alicia Silverstone's cook book (which I must note are my favorite oatmeal cookies EVER).  So I was happy when I came across this recipe for homemade granola at wholeliving.com.  I feel a lot better about letting Baby M snack on granola than cookies, especially granola made with flaxseed meal, egg whites and natural sweeteners.  I love this recipe because we can easily customize it with different fruits and nuts and most importantly, Baby M can help with almost all the steps.  There is lots of measuring and stirring and not much contact with a hot stove.  He still fights me over cracking the eggs, but I win out most of the time.  Hope you enjoy it too.