Part 3 - The Girl Who Cried Potty

As if potty training (part 1) and the ensuing fear to poop (part 2), wasn't enough, Bailey decided to add her own element of "drama" to Operation Ditch the Diaper (a.k.a. potty training).  "Drama" being code for she's a master manipulator and one smart cookie.

When we first began potty training, Bailey had no clue about when she needed to sit on the toilet.  We just set a timer, sat her down, and hoped we got the timing right more often that we got it wrong.  After being mildly successful, though, she caught on (as all kids eventually do), and took notice of what it felt like to need to go to the bathroom.  In addition to sitting on the potty when the timer went off, she'd also start letting us know ("potty? potty?") when she felt the urge to pee.  Those first two weeks there were - of course - times when she'd say "potty" but there'd be nothing to show for it, and other times when she wouldn't say anything, but mom would wind up with a wet lap because I forgot to put the absorbent pad in my lap before letting Bailey sit down.  That's to be expected.  She's not even 2.

It's what happened weeks into the "training" that threw us for a loop. When we'd started weaning her off her "treats" for successful potty trips (only giving them if she remembered to ask and even then, only giving her two morsels of cereal instead of the original four).  When she started wearing pants again because we weren't (as) worried about another article of clothing to wash out in case of an accident.  When she would tell us at the mall that she needed to go potty, waited patiently in line, and didn't (completely) freak out having to pee on a big toilet.

That's when things got interesting.

It all started over dinner one night.  And as a bit of background, our house rule is that we eat dinner together as a family.  Even if Bailey finishes early, she still has to sit in her high-chair with the family until most everyone else is done (i.e. me). We don't make her wait for Brandon - that would take all night - but it's important to us to set the precedent now that dinner is a time to unwind and talk about the day and reconnect as a family.  Obviously she isn't doing a lot of conversating, but we want her to get into the habit now, rather than have to re-train her later.

And now, back to the story . . .

Bottom line is that she was ready to be done with dinner and didn't want to sit in her high-chair any more. Trouble was, she was the only one done.  Brandon, Papa, Graw and myself were all still finishing up our meals.  Rather than pout and flail her head from side to side (her usual antics), she had a lightbulb moment: "Potty!"

We all stopped in our tracks. Graw and Papa looking at us newbies to see how we'd react, Brandon and I trying to read each other's minds about how to respond.  We were fairly confident that she didn't have to go; the grin on her face was rather telling as she scanned her audience for their reaction.  But what if she did? And we didn't want her to stop telling us because we wouldn't listen; then we'd be back to (a soggy) square one.

We decided to take her (no pee . . . let me put on my shocked face!) but plopped her right back in that high-chair when she was "done."  Take that, Toots.

A few minutes later, though: "Potty!"

Same discussion, same solution, only this time she did an about-face in front of the bathroom and didn't even sit on the potty and attempt to continue the ruse.  Another crossroads.  Now what?

A swift smack on the side of her leg, that's what.  And I reminded her that she's the one that said she had to go potty and she needed to at least sit and try.  She didn't like it (after all, she didn't have to go), but she sat, and we returned to the high-chair.

Moments later: "Potty!"

You've got to be kidding me!  This time she was given a fair warning about the potential discipline should she decide not to sit on the potty (we stopped shy of punishing her for not going potty; that seemed a bit much, even for us).  She still said "potty, potty" so we marched back down the hallway.

Another about-face attempt, another swat, another forced (and tear-filled) squat on the pot, and she was returned to her high-chair.  Are you getting the message, girl? You aren't getting out of things just by saying potty!

We survived the end of the meal, but the same scenario played out over the course of several dinners the next few nights, as well as at strategic moments during play.

About to be scolded about something-or-other? "Potty!"

Don't want to do what you've been asked to do? "Potty!"

Don't want to play in your room by yourself anymore? "Potty!"

Our rule of thumb was to entertain her the first time. After all, it might be legit.  After that, we used our judgement (especially in light of her poop "issues" addressed in part 2), but always made sure to return her to whatever she had been doing before the cries of "potty" began.  We didn't want her to win.  That's what Mommy and Daddy do.  :)

And when she wanted to run in and out (and in and out and in and out) of the house to go potty, Daddy had an ingenious solution: take the potty outside!  She's going to love these pictures when she gets older: