Potty School Drop-Outs

Confession time:  As of Monday morning at 7:17am, we are potty school drop-outs.  Failures.  Quitters.  Wimps.  

I did not reach this monumental decision lightly.  Here's a sample of my "conversation" with others on the matter (a.k.a. emotional tirade that I made my husband, several friends and family, and the Good Lord above listen to):

"But potty training feels like a BIG thing!  It feels like a 'if-I-screw-this-up-he-will-be-living-in-our-basement-when-he's-forty" kinda thing!  How can I do this to him?  How can I say, either literally or figuratively, 'Buddy, you're terrible at this' and take that shot at his little self-esteem?!  He will be scarred forever.  I can almost hear the collective sigh of all the child psychologists in the world shaming me.  He will never recover from this punch in the gut and will always hold it against me."

Thankfully, I have learned two things important things:  1)  I have a tendency to overreact.  2)  I have learned to surround myself with people that don't. 

One dear friend in particular reminded me that Luke is an old-soul, intelligent two year old that is perfectly capable of having a conversation about the topic.  She also convinced me that being two, he will believe whatever I tell him to believe.  

Feeling better, but still not quite ready to throw in the towel, we decided to try for a few more days.  We purchased a Fisher Price potty (and would've been better off just flushing $30 down the real toilet.)  We upped the ante on rewards.  We gushed praises and gently admonished.  Nada.  I mean nothing in the potty for SIX days.  I think part of the problem was a tough bout with constipation that left him a little scared.  Whatever the reason, I knew it was time to either ratchet it way up and do the 3-4 day underwear/bootcamp method (that I honestly didn't think would work) or...quit for now.  We had a decision to make.  And pardon the horrible pun, but it was time to poop or get off the pot.

I decided to ask Luke.  Here's how it went down:

Me:  "Luke, let's talk about potty training.  How do you think it's going?"

Luke:  "NOT good."

Me:  "Yeah, it's a really, really tough thing to learn isn't it?  I am so proud of you for trying! Would you like to take a break for a little while and try again after you turn three?"

Luke:  "YES.  We should do that.  That's a really good idea."  (No joke.  His words.)

I don't ask my kids for their input on a lot of big decisions.  I give them little choices throughout the day so they learn how to decide and think for themselves, but we are unashamedly a dictatorship about the major things.  Nonetheless, this just felt right to ask about.  I misread his cues and I wanted to go back, but I wanted to know how he felt.  Turns out he felt he misjudged the situation a little too.  

The first-time Mama in me would've dogmatically continued on, in part to avoid admitting my mistake to my child or others and in part to show my kid that Sinyards are NOT quitters. 

...Except when we are.  Except when it's right to quit.  Sometimes being a good mom is about pushing and encouraging and cheering when your child wants with every fiber of their being to stop.  So much of motherhood is about making them do the right thing, even when they don't want to.  It's days upon days of nagging as positively as possible and sometimes annoying yourself at your unrelenting reminders to just. keep. it. up.  

But sometimes?  Sometimes motherhood needs to be about stepping back and saying "Hey. Let's reevaluate this together."  It's remembering to take a breath and then look at the big picture for a minute.  It's about chilling the heck out for everyone's sakes.  

The second-time Mama in me knows better.  I was wrong.  It's not the right time.  He will get this, but not now.  We have too much on our collective family plate and he's not ready.  AND THAT'S OKAY.  He will be fine.  

I have never felt happier about failing something in my life.  I pray this lesson sticks with me as we navigate deeper into this never-a-dull-moment parenting journey.  Quitters DO win sometimes.  

P.S.  If you see Luke in high school and he's wearing Depends, turns out we should've stuck with it.