Potty training is not easy. Any parent knows this...That is, unless your little one was born with an innate ability to drop gps guided ordinance within a centimeter of it's intended target. If this happens to be the case with you, I have a few suggestions where you can go on your next vacation. Hint: it won't be Jamaica, mon.
My son is 4 and has autism. Potty training can be extra difficult for kids on the spectrum. He's got about a 70% success rate with #1 (if he gets to the bathroom in time....). Even then, it's up to us to take him there as he won't just go on his own yet. Get him to the toilet with perfect timing and he owns #1.
It's #2 we have a problem with.
I'll just be a grown up and refer to it as poop because switching around keyboards on my iPhone is taking too long.
Poop it is.
We've tried to time the poops. We have a decent ballpark guesstimate of when he needs to go, usually. He's about as regular as...well....ok bad choice of words. He's hard to predict.
Usually our efforts to have him poop in the proper place consist of sitting him down on the toilet to huge protests on his part. He pees standing up. He poops standing up. End of story.
We'll sit with him.
And after an hour or so, everyone has a numb butt so we give up. We put his pull up back on, he goes into the living room and poops.
That's how it works.
My wife brought him home from therapy yesterday afternoon. He was in the clothes we sent him in which was a good sign that he hadn't pooped at school. I get down to wrestle around with him and catch a whiff.
There's poop afoot.
We dart to the bathroom and like countless times before, I set him down on the toilet. I have hope in my heart that today, this day, things will be different. My wonderful and supportive wife brings water for me, and juice and crackers for him. She knows we're serious this time.
I break out the iPad. He watches several episodes of Spongebob. He heaves the iPad onto the tile in frustration twice. The otterbox case saves the day repeatedly.
He wants to stand. He needs to poop.
I heard that turning a kid around on the toilet works occasionally. I try that. Now he's really pissed off. We're also out of juice and crackers.
We're now about an hour into this. I call to my wife and tell her I'm losing confidence in my ability to stick with it. She offers some words of encouragement and a hug. My resolve strengthens.
Now he's turned around and facing the proper direction. Still mad. Still needs to poop. Spongebob and the iPad are no longer cutting it. I scoot my chair closer to face him and place my hands under his arms. I lift him ever so slightly into a hovering position about an inch off the toilet seat. I don't know why I did this.
Suddenly he grows quiet. He appears as though he's staring down some threat in the distance. I get the feeling that something is about to happen.
I hear a noise.
I catch a whiff.
And like that, I'm pretty sure he's pooped into the toilet.
I don't have the courage to check the bowl. It seems too good to be true. I call for my wife (who's now preparing dinner) to come in for the unveiling. My daughter joins in as well. I felt like Geraldo Rivera on live TV about to unveil Al Capone's vault. Would it hold treasures? Bodies? Poop?
Or would it be empty?
I slowly lift the boy off the pot.
The vault wasn't empty.
Eat your heart our Geraldo.
My boy pooped in the toilet.
- Posted from my phone. I know...phones are amazing.