Well, I've already introduced myself, so I feel like we are close enough to discuss something that is near and dear to my heart. I dare say, near and dear to the hearts of all mothers. Something that, until I became a mom, was hardly ever given a second thought and was never the topic of public discourse. Something that used to be private and disgusting and is now the cause of promises, bribes, and celebrations. Yes my friends, this is my third post, and I am ready to talk about poop.
You see, I am five months pregnant with my second child and my biggest goal for these nine months of gestation is not to birth a healthy baby, or to decorate the perfect nursery, or to mentally and physically prepare myself for the pain of labor. Those are all admirable endeavors and I hope to accomplish them, but my biggest, most crucial objective for these nine months is: to get my two and a half year old toddler to poop in the toilet.
I cannot have two children in diapers. My husband would have to sell a kidney to afford it and he's got diabetes so his kidneys are probably not even worth that much anyway.
As of now, Luki has pooped in the potty a grand total of …drum roll please… zero times. Zilch, nada, goose egg. We have promised James, the red engine from the Thomas the Train series; we have bribed him with M&M's; we have watched and read about Elmo pooping in the potty countless times; we've even written, recorded, and choreographed a "poopy song" to cheer him on… but our son is relentless. He just won't do it.
The thing is, he knows. Every afternoon, when he comes home from daycare, he hides out in a corner of the living room, poops in his diaper, and then asks us to help him put his poop in the potty so that he can flush it and watch it go down. He knows it goes in the toilet and yet, he refuses to sit? Clearly, he is messing with our heads.
I know that all the parenting books/websites/experts say not to force it, that he will do it when he's ready, it will happen in his own time, blah, blah, blah. Ok, yea, that's all fine and good as long as "his own time" is sometime in the next four months. Otherwise, I will be the lady who takes a potty and her toddler to the labor and delivery room. Who knows? Perhaps the sight of his brother emerging from my insides will scare him straight to the toilet.