Monthly Archives: November 2016
The Potty: A Toddlers Journey
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Potty Training. So much is weighted in those two words. Having recently waded through this process, I feel hopeful that I can give you some helpful ideas if you are struggling. Here is our potty training story.
Just after my daughter’s (she shall now be known as L) 1st birthday I bought two potty chairs (this one from Fisher Price and a simpler one from Ikea here) and put one upstairs and one downstairs. I kept them in the bathroom, and when she followed me in there I would talk to her about it. If I recall correctly, she only sat on it a few times, with clothes, and then didn’t really have an interest. She did still follow me though.
Around 18 months she was pretty interested so I thought I’d get a feel for it, and after nap time I stuck her on the potty. Nothing happened so I put her in underwear and set a timer for 15 minutes. We went about our day and when the timer dinged we sat on the potty again. Again, nothing happened, so I set another timer. Before the next timer went off I noticed there was a puddle under her (thankfully we were in the kitchen.) She was not phased in the slightest, and so I decided she wasn’t ready. We went back into diapers, but I continued to talk to her about it.
Fast forward six months. She was showing definite interest, so we decided to start trying again. Oh it was wonderful. We did Pull-Ups, I downloaded the Pull-Up app and every time she went she got to play a game. I had the timer set on 45 minutes, and she did great. She kept it dry and would go pee in the toilet about 80% of the time. #2 wasn’t happening, but that was ok, I figured we’d get there. I was so proud! She even told us when she had to go while we were at Wal-Mart. Unfortunately, I was massively pregnant and did not want to have to clean up the messes that would inevitably occur during the transition to underwear. So we just kept with Pull-Ups, and when our little boy was born, she regressed (fancy talk for she was always going in the Pull-Up, never in the toilet.) So we went back to diapers. I had just given birth, and while having a newborn was easier the second time, I still wasn’t up for constantly running an unwilling toddler to the bathroom.
Having a baby changed my perspective though. All of a sudden, my tiny two year old looked HUGE! And as the double diapers started piling up, I decided we were doing potty training. I was so not looking forward to the mess (hence my previous toe-dipping efforts.) I had heard from several people that the bare-bum 3 day method worked well, and since me asking her if she needed to go wasn’t really working, we took the plunge.
I was so anxious all day. I cleaned up a few wet spots, and gritted my teeth, hauling her to the bathroom when she started going. I did keep her in underwear, which does absolutely nothing to help cleanup but I didn’t want her getting the idea it is ok to run around without anything on. I turned to my mom, friends, and family for support and basically encouragement. They did not disappoint. I did have several people tell me that I should wait until she was ready. The idea that she would never have an accident sounded great, but I learned that that is not the case.
As I’ve gotten to know her I truly believe she was ready, but like all new things, she needed a push. And a shove. And a yank. Anyways, it really wasn’t that bad (I tell myself so I will actually consider having more kids one day.) After four days she was peeing in the toilet all the time. We didn’t wait to do bed time training, and she caught on fast. She had one bedtime accident in that first week, and maybe a handful in the 6-8 months since. We also had a few daytime accidents, but they were few and far between. We did have another problem, though. #2
I had read that many kids had a harder time going #2 in the potty than #1, and it was definitely that way for us. I tried everything: the app, reminding her every half hour, sticker chart, chocolate chip after success, but no matter what she would not tell me she needed to poop, and would go in her pants. There was one extremely “fun” afternoon. My sister and I had gone to lunch and shopping. I took L to the potty after lunch, she wouldn’t go in the bathroom, but we tried. We went to one store, took her there, she didn’t go. The next store we went to she had an accident. A big, messy one. And I ran out of wipes. Luckily we were at Babies R Us so I was able to get some, and they were totally cool about the puddle on the floor, but I was so frustrated. I had no idea how to get her to tell me, and taking her all the time wasn’t working.
My dear mother came up with an amazing idea that completely saved the potty train. She got a bunch of little toys/surprises and put them in brown paper bags. There were 7 and each time L went poop on the potty and not in her pants, she got to pick one. It took precisely one more accident for it to click. By the time she got all 7 prizes, she was using the potty all the time. Success!!!
As I mentioned, its been about 8 months since we officially started this journey, and I am so happy to say that I know longer constantly worry about if she is going to have an accident. There have been a few but she has also shown amazing control. Like that one time we were shopping an hour away and I forgot to have her go before we headed home. It had been several hours and she told me she needed to go as we were getting on the interstate. She made it until we could get off at the next exit to McDonald’s and I could have danced, I was so happy.
I honestly wondered if I would ever not be in constant panic over her body functions. Now it is at the back of my mind, she does 98% on her own. So if you are feeling despair, never fear! This too shall pass. Here are the different things we tried:
- Potty Charts all Around – in the depths of my anguished search for help I came across this idea from a doctor to have a potty chart for mom and dad too. When she started losing interest I put up a chart for me and one for my husband. It sparked her interest, and after I got my first sticker she insisted on going too. The next morning she instructed me to make a potty chart for Puppy (her stuffed, well… puppy.)
- Potty Chart Reward – with her potty chart, when she completed it, she got a toy. She had picked out the toy ahead of time. After that, she started working on another chart, but she got so good at it, the chart just kind of faded out of her mind.
- Personalized Story Book – my sister-in-law gave me this idea. She said for her youngest she made a book showing the steps of going potty with your child as the star. I had conveniently got a pack of photo paper last time I bought ink, so I told L we were going to make our own book (she loves books so that was easy.) I let her pick her own outfit, then instructed her to do the steps while I took the pictures. Use caution with this because you want to respect privacy while also teaching the right steps. While she was napping I compiled it, wrote the story, and printed it. The whole thing took maybe 3 hours, and she absolutely loves it. She still likes to read it now.
- Instant Reward – we used chocolate chips. This worked for a while, but it started to seem that she would not go all the way so she could go again in half an hour and get more. Then we tried tokens, and she got to use the tokens to watch extra tv shows or a movie. This was hard to enforce on the go, and ultimately it fell away. Fortunately, once she really got it, she didn’t need the instant reward.
- Surprise Bags for #2 – I won’t go into detail since I discussed this above, but some prize ideas are Play-Doh, character chap stick, little book, costume jewelry, bouncy ball, new crayons, or any little toy. The Dollar Store is a great place to get these.
One thing to remember, that I feel is very important, is language. Make sure you are using words your child will understand. If you say “Let’s go to the potty,” they may not know that “let’s” is “let us.” Even though it feels strange, saying things like “It has been a long time since you have gone pee, come sit on the potty.” Also pick your words for bodily functions and stick with them. Whatever they are, you need to be consistent or you kid will get confused. Be prepared to discuss it a lot, you will probably get questions about why we have to poop and pee, why it needs to go in the potty, and where it goes after.
If you’re just starting, best wishes on your potty journey. If you are a successful potty trainer, please share some advice.
There are Two Sides to Every Coin
I have thought about writing this for a long time. I chose to do it now for two reasons. 1) One of my old neighbors suffered from postpartum anxiety and depression and tragically stepped in front of a semi and was killed instantly. She was a kind, beautiful, amazing woman whom I looked up to, and I never would have guessed that she was suffering. Her wonderful husband set up a foundation in her honor to help women suffering from postpartum disorders. Please check it out here. 2) We’ve had some hard days lately. I have been having health problems and unfortunately that makes it harder to deal with the depression. Writing this has been a way for me to cope, step back, and remember why I fight each day.
I always believed suicide was selfish. How could you do that to those who you love, those who love you? Mother, father, grandparents, uncles, aunts, brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, neighbors, friends, possibly husband or wife, children. It wasn’t until I stood on the brink of this permanent, irreversible choice, that I understood why someone would take their own life. At that point, you feel so little value, you actually, truly believe that everyone in your life would be better off without you.
For me, I figured my parents, siblings, and extended family would be sad, disappointed even, but I honestly didn’t think about them beyond that. Same for neighbors, old friends, people I used to know. I could imagine someone hearing about it, and saying, “That’s too bad” or “How sad” and their life would go on.
Those who I really thought about were my husband and my two kids. And for a long time, they saved me. They were my reason for living. That was when I couldn’t understand how someone could be so selfish. The thought would occur to me once in a while, when I was struggling with a hard day or time. But I couldn’t imagine doing that to them. But then my self worth started slipping. I compared myself to others and began to see myself as less of a mom, a person. I would get mad, extremely frustrated and grumpy at my children, then I would feel horrible; they’re only kids, I’m a monster.
I started to believe they would be better off without me. If I was gone, my husband could find someone else, someone who would be a better mother, a better wife. I wasn’t good enough, I thought. I didn’t deserve these sweet kids and this amazing husband.
When I was 15 I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and (I believe) misdiagnosed with depression. I was given an anti-depressant and sent on my way. I took them every day for years. Life went on, it was a part of it. I graduated high school, fell in love, went to college, and got married. I had bad days if I forgot my pill, but otherwise I thought I was a normal young adult. One day, while driving on the freeway I felt an urge, stronger than any I have ever felt, to turn the wheel, drive into the concrete barrier and end my life. I was so shocked I began to cry, and my husband, who was riding passenger, asked me what was wrong. I couldn’t speak, I just drove home in tears. Later I told him what happened, and he consoled me.
It didn’t happen again until a few years later, after I had my daughter. I was so excited to be pregnant; we had planned for a baby, everything was going according to schedule, she came on her own, she was perfect and beautiful and life was good. Or so I thought. I got anxiety, such terrible anxiety that at night, after feeding her and putting her back to sleep, I would lie awake, adrenaline coursing, ears tuned to every little sound. It would take an hour or more for me to get calm enough to fall back asleep. I slept a lot during the day, when she did. I kept the blinds closed, I didn’t go outside except in the car, and usually only with my husband. I felt safe only in my home, and even then I was constantly afraid someone or something would come in and try to hurt her. After months of suffering, I had another urge to end my life.
At that point I knew I needed help. But it was hard to admit. I felt like I should be able to “get over this” by myself. I didn’t want to tell people because I felt wrong. I had a home, a husband, a baby, I got to stay home with her like I wanted. I had so much more than so many other people, and I felt if I complained or admitted what I was feeling, people would think I was ungrateful or selfish. After many nights of crying and feeling hopeless, my husband convinced me to see a therapist.
It took a long few months, but eventually I got better. I opened the blinds, I took my daughter outside and sat on a blanket, enjoying the sunshine. I slept at night; I wanted to do things again. After a few more months, I was able to wean myself off of my antidepressant. I still had my ups and downs, but I was a much happier person, and for the first time almost 8 years, I didn’t need a pill to be that way.
A few months later we decided we were ready to add another baby to our family. While I was pregnant with my son I started slipping back into depression. After struggling for a month, I told my doctor and got put on an anti-depressant again. I felt better in some aspects, but struggled a lot with the feeling that I was a failure.
I mean, women throughout history have had babies and and made it just fine. Depression is just this new generation problem. THIS IS THE STIGMA. The reality is, it doesn’t matter why you have the problem; knowing won’t fix it. Say I catch a cold. Knowing where I got it from doesn’t make it go away, or get any better. You have to treat the problem regardless of why you have it.
After my son was born, it was more of the same. Good days, hard days, times when I felt so overwhelmingly inadequate. I began to understand how someone could make that choice. I don’t want to do that. I feel as if walking along life I have found the edge of a cliff. Every day I keep walking along the edge. At any moment I could decide that I’m done, and jump. I don’t want to do that, but I don’t know how to get away from the edge. It is always there, constantly bugging me, life constantly pushing me. I don’t want that. I am going to be selfish and stay. Stay with my husband and kids because I want to, I want to be with them, share this life with them. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be done fighting this battle. It is exhausting, but I don’t want to give in because I would lose everything.
I don’t want to be popular, I don’t want to have a ton of friends, or a super successful career. I just want to wake up and not wish the day was already over. I want to enjoy watching my children play, learn. I want to look forward to life events. I want to enjoy life, the messy, the sad, the dirty, the grumpy, the complicated, they joyous, the smiles, the laughter. I want to live. So I will keep going. I will be patient, I will forgive myself, I will always share my love, and I will take it one day at a time.
If you are struggling with postpartum depression and need help, please reach out to loved ones, friends, neighbors, anyone. I know you may feel alone, but I promise you are not. When I am in my dark hole, here are some things I do to help.
- Watch videos of my kids-my daughter loves watching videos of herself, and seeing them when they were younger brings back good memories and reminds me why I want to keep going.
- Get a yummy treat-I know, I know, food for comfort is not the best, but TOO BAD. When I am struggling, seriously struggling with depression and suicidal thoughts, I usually haven’t been eating well so I’m hungry. So I sit and think of what sounds good to eat, then if it’s feasible, I get it.
- Watch one my my shows-as a parent, I try to not watch my shows while the kids are up. It’s not that I watch particularly vulgar or violent shows, but most any live action tv nowadays has language that I don’t want my children learning. My daughter already copies me when I say “Oh, crap!” so I don’t need to give her any more words. When I am in overwhelming despair I get to watch my show.
- Talk to a friend-I am not an extremely active social person. I am very friendly when I’m already around people, but it is difficult to get myself to a social situation. I try to keep in touch with family and a few friends, and it helps me remember why I choose to live.