Ok, I’ve mentioned a few times, I am here to give insightful tips and tricks that I’ve learned along the way. But full disclosure on this one, this is only here for your entertainment so you can see just how chaotic life with boys can be, especially when Papi is traveling (I’ve already written about this topic, here and here!)
If you do a quick Google search on potty problems with kids, you will find hundreds of thousands of articles on how to potty train your 1-year-old, how to help with your 3-year olds’ potty regression and bed wetting all the way up to like 12 years old. So yes, potty training is a HUGE ordeal in every household.
But why didn’t anyone tell me about the complete disaster involved with teaching a 4- or 5-year-old child how to wipe their own bum?!?!
Floater in the Tub:
The rule in our house is that by 5, we no longer wipe for you. You’re big, you’re strong, and you can do it all by yourself. Now, we understand there will be an accident here or there, or a streak sometimes, or a bit on the hands that can be cured with a second wash of the hands just to be safe. But what happens when your child tries to wipe, and quickly decides I just don’t feel like it this time?
This. This is what happens…
Luis was traveling for work (yes, this stuff ALWAYS happens when he’s gone, it’s Murphy’s Law), and all the boys were playing in the backyard, using the hose and water table so they had mud on just about every inch of their little bodies. As I ran the tub quickly, I got the big kids into the shower, did a couple of last-minute pick-up things, and passed Mateo (4 at the time) in the hall as he was finishing up using the bathroom as I plopped Jack in the tub to play.
I quickly ran to get his towel and toothbrush from the closet right outside the bathroom and when I walked back into the bathroom, Jack was playing with a bit of balled up mud between his fingers on both hands. I just wanted all these tubs done and the boys off to bed so I went to get the mud out but as I got closer, I realized that the mud smelled. Bad! This was not mud, it was poop! I quickly used toilet paper to get it out of his hands, only to have the toilet paper disintegrate in the tub, so I ran to grab a wipe and pulled him out of the tub. I stood there, holding this naked, screaming baby in the air, scouring the tub with my eyes to find any other floaters he had left for me in the tub. But there was nothing?
It Wasn’t the Baby:
How in the world did he only have that tiny bit of poop? Then I saw it. A single, perfect, little line of poop smudge on the top of the side of the tub right next to the toilet. There’s no way that Jack could draw a straight line like that if he tried! Then a memory of walking past Mateo in the hall flooded my mind.
MATEO!!!
Mom instinct was right, I called Mateo in and asked him if that was his poop on the tub. He hung his head and said “yes” super quietly. Now, I wish I was that perfect, June Cleaver kind of mom and told him it was ok, but I went with the whole “What in the world were you thinking?!?!” mom scream.
Granted, Mateo was just a month shy of his 5th birthday and had only started learning to wipe about a month ago, but he was doing a pretty great job, better than any of his older brothers! So maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised when he told me that he attempted to wipe, but the first pass was a lot and he just wanted to play so he figured he would try harder next time (Yes, I am laughing as I write this now. But no, I wasn’t laughing then!). He went on to explain that after the first failed attempt, he had it on his hands, which he rubbed down his shirtless belly, then wiped the rest off on his knee, and showed me the brown smudges. Could this get any worse?!
Yes. Yes it could.
He continued to tell me his story, he then got off the potty, noticed one of his favorite tub toys floating in Jack’s bath water, stepped over the side of the tub to straddle it and sat his little butt down to reach the toy. Hence that perfectly straight, butt crack line on the side of the tub. He got the toy of choice, put his shorts on, spotted another small bit of poo on his hand, wiped on the inside of the sink bowl and happily went back to the toy room. Only then did he remember that he was playing Legos with Jasper (7), so he dropped the poopy toy right on the floor, ran over to the KITCHEN TABLE and resumed playing Legos.
Insert mom tears right here. Lots of them.
Clean Up Crew, of one:
Yes, there was a straight line on the tub, some on Jack’s hands, smudges down Mateo’s belly and right knee, and a wipe mark on the inside of the sink. All visible, all able to be washed. But where were all the germs on the toy? In the playroom? At the kitchen table? And which Legos had he played with? The questions went on and on and I am scared to this day that there may STILL be some more poop bacteria throwing a rave on my table somewhere.
So moms of little ones, beware! Potty training is, in fact, hard. It is some of the most trying times and some of the biggest potty problems. But as the saying goes, “The bigger the kid, the bigger the (potty!) problems!”
I’m traumatized, and I still have to endure this phase one more time, ugh!