A little over a week ago we went to a friend's house for a play date, where the big kids play together (mostly) and the mamas enjoy disjointed conversation while holding our littlest ones and refereeing the big ones. On this particular morning, my littlest one was extra fussy and really needed a nap - something not easily accomplished when there are half a dozen other kids (mostly boys) running around yelling at a ball they're chasing. But after much bouncing, nursing, rocking and shushing, I finally got him to sleep in my arms. I settled in on the overstuffed arm chair to relax with a sleeping baby in my arms and engage in much needed adult conversation.
Buuuuut, then the toddler declares that he has to go potty, an event that still requires my assistance and at the very least, my supervision. So I carefully stand up with the sleeping baby cradled in my left arm and with my right arm guide my very distracted toddler to the bathroom. I help Carter pull down his pants and underwear, slip my free arm under his arms and hoist him onto the potty. I glance at the baby. Still sleeping. This is going pretty well.
But then it didn't. I quickly realized that I overlooked a very crucial little detail. His penis was not pointed down. And as if in slow motion, I see the pee start flowing. Everywhere. It's arching over the side of the toilet, onto his pants, onto his underwear and of course, onto the floor. (why, oh why, are little boys the ones given fire hoses out of which to pee???) I panicked! I needed to stop the pee!!
By now, my left arm is now nearly numb from holding a gigantic baby, but I can't put him down. Because, did I mention that this friend has a cat? And that the cat's litter box is in the bathroom? And that there's litter
all over the bathroom floor? Yeah, there was no way this baby was going on the floor. So again, with one arm, I reach around Carter and try to scoot him back further on the toilet. Which I successfully did. But in the process I also dunked his little butt into the cold toilet water. He's yelling, I'm yelling and the baby, my some miracle, is still sleeping.
Carter has this terrified look on his face and I, quite honestly, had no idea what to do. I mean, there was a hundred things that needed to be done, but what to do
first? Well, in my good judgement, I decided that first I should haul Carter out of the toilet. I set him on the ground, instruct him not to step in the pee (yeah right) and leave. I go back out to the living room where I finally set the baby down (after which he immediately woke up - great), grab the extra pair of pants and underwear from the diaper bag and head back to the bathroom. My poor Carter is still standing there with sopping wet pants around his ankles with a puddle of pee next to his feet. And I can now hear Bennett voicing his displeasure of being put down in the other room. I grab a handful of toilet paper & mop up the floor as best as I could then proceed to peel Carter's pants off. I didn't want him sitting on the kitty litter floor, so I helped him put on new underwear & pants while standing up. (not easy, by the way) I succeed in redressing the toddler and we both head back out to rejoin our play date. I pick the baby back up to start the rocking, bouncing, shushing, please go to sleep routine again. I inform my friend that my son peed on the floor. She just smiled an understanding smile and told me not to worry about it. I was so glad to have that behind us.
Except that it wasn't. Just this last week we were at another friend's house for preschool. Carter needed to go potty, so once again, I help him in the bathroom. (this time with no baby in my arms) I pull down his pants and as I'm helping him sit on the toilet, he sticks his legs out, stiff as a board and
refuses to sit down. I try a few more times and he protests every time saying "I don't have to go potty!!". Um, you just said you did. You're doing the potty dance and your underwear already have a few drops of pee on them. Clearly you need to go potty. I try to again to set him on the toilet. Still stiff legged, he states, more emphatically "I don't HAVE to go potty." And then it comes out.
"I don wanna fall in da potty".
Ah. There it is. My child is afraid to sit on the toilet. I guess I can't blame him. If my mother dropped me in a toilet, I'd be a little skeptical too.
I try assuring him that I won't let him fall, but he's not buying it. I threaten that if he pees in his pants we'll have to go home, but still he won't budge. And because I can't make Carter do what Carter doesn't want to do, I pull up his pants and allow him to leave the bathroom, praying he doesn't pee in his pants. Thankfully this mama had a potty training chair that we were able to use so he could finally pee.
I've tried a few more times at home this week to have him sit on the big toilet, but he absolutely will.not. do it. I'm just hoping he overcomes this fear before we're stuck in, say, Target and he won't use the bathroom. Oh, the adventures of parenthood.