Potty Break

A Lesson in Toiletting

My daughter was rounding two when I began to notice potty talk popping up in daily conversation. I however, opted to dismiss the subject as long as I could. She was my second child and I had become more of a “follow her lead

 It wasn’t long before I realized that I wasn’t as relaxed about it as I was resistant to it. But why on earth? Once I thought about it, it made perfect sense. I often feel overextended, over committed and overdone and I saw potty training as just another project that would demand my undivided attention and commitment. Who needs more of those? And then, a sign, a signal, a red flag came to visit and I was witness to one of my many fears; a 3-½ year old still in diapers. That was all I needed to see and the next day, I wholeheartedly committed to the toileting process. Suddenly, I found myself determined, hopeful and up for the challenge.

 We did it “cold turkey”, which is to say my daughter was naked from the waist down for about 4 days straight. It’s not as bad as it sounds. I knew I had an agenda to kick her daily diaper in a week’s time but what I didn’t know was that I had unknowingly committed myself to exist for the sole purpose of helping my daughter reach a big-girl milestone. The whole situation slowly shifted from being about me to being about her. Imagine!?  My daily chores and responsibilities took a back seat and it all seemed so natural and dare I say, easy. What I had initially saw as a burden of commitment was turning into this incredibly liberating and unifying experience between the two of us. She responded to my attention and encouragement with such gratitude, such love, such sweetness. I felt like we were working together to get her to the Potty Olympics and we were going for Gold!

 We experienced many glorious triumphs over those few days being held up, diaperless in our house, but one moment will always stay with me. Early one morning, as my daughter was embarking on her very first potty poop ever, she gripped the side handles, clinched her teeth, looked me square in the eye and with a determined push (which I can only liken to birthing a child) she grunted out a pained and desperate, “I love you Mommy.”  It was as if she was taking off for the moon and those were her departing words. Very touched and even more bewildered, I answered back, “I love you too,” and once the poop hit the potty, so to speak, I added “and I am so proud of you.”  Then, we embraced for a long while. It was an oddly intense moment, and not unlike the days that preceded it, totally unexpected. I still don’t know what exactly to make of it. I only know that I was glad she was leaning on me, calling to me for help, wanting me near her during this plunge into the unknown and most importantly, that I was there for her.

 I’m hoping that these adventures in potty training will forever be my reminder; one of those transformational mother/daughter moments that took my toddler from diapers to panties and me from resistance to surrender before either of us knew what hit us. And it was a lesson we learned together. When we love one another, work together, exercise patience, and are willing to let go a little, everything works out just fine.