I started trying with Vincenzo when he was two years old. I treated it like a game and my theory was as long as we were both having fun, we’d stick with it. After three months of cleaning human feces off of the carpet, underwear, car seats, legs, shoes, chairs, couches, beds, and other people, there came a day when I was NOT having fun. We took a break and waited until he was a little older, and it still took awhile then.
After all that, I was going to wait to train Rocco until he was closer to three until someone pointed out that nursing a baby (which I’ll be doing then) and potty training go together as well as cats and, well, potty training. So one morning last week I looked my opinionated, bull-headed, do-it-on-my-terms two-year-old square in the eye and told him how it’s going to be from now on.
Or maybe I just told him breezily that if he sat on the potty he could have a tic-tac. Same dif.
On the first day we set the timer for every hour. Early that morning he sat on the toilet but nothing came out, so Rocco did what Rocco does: he got mad. I asked him if he wanted a cup of water to help him make some potty and he heartily accepted. I poured him one and he promptly took it to the potty, dumped it in, and asked for a tic-tac.
Then he peed on his chair at breakfast and started bawling.
The timer went off an hour later and he sat on the potty. Nothing came out, but 30 seconds after he left the bathroom BAM there it was.
Around lunch Rocco moved the entire training toilet into the kitchen so he could use it as a stepladder to reach some cookies we had baked that morning. I wasn’t sure if I should give him a tic-tac for “using the potty” or not.
The timer went off about 15 times that day and not once, not even by accident, did Rocco make any magic happen in his toilet, though he made lots of magic everywhere else in the house. I gave myself one of those “Well what did you expect?” looks and went to bed, bracing myself for day two.
That’s when things got weird. The morning of the second day Rocco told me he had to go potty, so we went to his toilet and he did exactly that. I have no idea how or why, but he hit the potty every time that day, without me setting the timer. It’s been like that for a week now and I’m waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out of the toilet and tell me I’ve been punk’d, and then Rocco will pee all over us both. Cue the laugh track.
Really, this is weird.
Poop, I should clarify, is quite different from potty and Rocco hasn’t quite gotten it down yet. After he crapped himself at church on Sunday, our friend commented, “The sermon was especially moving today, wasn’t it?” If only we could get the pastor to come preach from our bathroom.