Wednesday, August 30, 2006

More Tales of Pottytraining Efforts.

So How Do You Top Fried Pubes and Brafondling?
Ya can't. Ya just can't.

I appreciate the good folks who offered other possible explanations for the hair in my fries, such as arm hair, chest hair, beard hair, eyebrow hair, ear hair, and hair from other continents (which kinda snarked me the wrong way a little, as I'd never even mentioned the color of the hair because I didn't even wanna go there, but if you're interested, it was very light brown/blonde), and I understand that my story boggles the imagination, and perhaps you don't want to believe it, but BELIEVE IT, y'all. It was a pube, root still attached. If you'd seen it, I promise you, you'd agree.

I thought about asking R to submit samples of his arm hair, chest hair and pubic hair for the purpose of illustrating my point in a photograph. Understandably, he was uncomfortable with that, but I did perform a thorough, scientific comparison of his arm hair (too soft and too light), chest hair (too long), his eyebrow hair (too straight) and his pubes, and let's just say that I still stand firm behind my initial allegation.

So how did today go? Let me set it up a little.

Monday, I called and left a message with the boys' school informing them that we'd need to find out about options for the Non-Potty Trained. Yesterday, they called me to, very politely, let me know that there IS no option for the Non-Potty Trained at his age.

So I told little Tito that if he doesn't go potty potty, he can't go to school with Pie and his other friends. And what did he say?

"I no wanna go school. I stay home wiff you, Mommy.
YOU my friend."

Heart melting. Tears welling.

So I tell R this story and he says that I'm not helping because I want to keep T a baby forever - totally not true, hello, ya think I love changing dipes all day? So R proposes that on his day off (today) we put the boy in panties and just let him figure out that wet pants really suck and that going to the potty prevents wet pants. Yeah, cuz 3 1/2-year-olds are big on LOGIC.

I agree that something needs to be done. We've done all we can think of to help him. So I'm on board. We won't go anywhere, won't do anything but sit around and wait for T to go potty and have a big freakin party when he does. Hell, I'll take him to Chuck E. Cheese, a movie, the candy store, Donut Palace, I'd buy him a pony for cryin out loud - anything he wants if just once he'd pee on the damn potty.

The day started off all right, T sat on the potty for a good thirty minutes, and not one drop came out into the toilet. Clearly he's got some element of bladder control. In all the cumulative time he's sat on the potty, you'd think that he'd eventually have peed in it by accident, but he's never let one stray drop land where it belongs.

So after he sat there for what seemed a sufficient amount of time, R let him get up and we put panties on him with a Pull-Up over it. Moments later, he comes in to tell us he's wet. Too bad, says R. Maybe if you feel what wet pants feel like, you'll remember to pee in the potty instead of your pants.

T walks away like, whatever, and after a few minutes returns to the room. He is preceded by the undeniable stench of poo. Again, R insists that he sit in it for a while.

And R goes back to playing the XboxGame he was playing last night until 3am. The Xbox is in our bedroom. Not sure if I've ever mentioned that before.

Bottom (pun?) line is that by noon we were on pair #4. R played Xbox all day. Oh, and he did leave to go get the oil changed in the car. But I was the one with poop under my fingernails after cleaning up the all of the dirty panties. Great plan, eh? Yeah. Great for YOU.

It's raining, and I'm stuck in the house, bored shitless.

Ha, shitless. Don't I wish.

I offered to take Pie to his aquatherapy session. Usually R takes him, but I was really dying to get out of the house. R said fine. I was secretly wishing that I'd fed Tito a big vat of chili before I left, but obviously it was too late for that, so instead I just hoped for a bit of vengance in the form of poopy pants. Or maybe vomit.

It would serve R right if he had to actually put down the Xbox controller and hose the boy off the moment after I left. I had even thought of some extra errands to run while I was out, just to better my chances of bodily-function-related drama. Oh, how I relish poetic justice!

About ten minutes after P and I arrived at the pool, my cell phone rang.





Remind me not to question R's methods.

So here's what our bathroom looks like now, for our Potty Party:

Courtesy of The Beeb.

But he still hasn't peed on the potty. Weird, huh?

Oh, and P.S. - I have to say that, whatever Brafondling Ray did to it, my bra feels great today. Maybe Ray's like "The Bra Whisperer". Ya think?

Yes, I washed it!


Bezzie said...

I'm DYING!!! I don't know if it was the hair sample experiment your husband wouldn't consent to, the poop monologue or the Bra Whisperer that did me in!!!

But hooray--first poop down!

Oh and I can empathize. TMS plays his PS2 all night in our bedroom too.......when he lives with us!

OldLadyPenPal said...

you know, brafondling is starting to sound like not such a bad thing....


SiressYorkie said...

You know, the only way we got the message through to Max is by letting him walk around in his underwear and having accidents all over the place. MAN, he was not happy with that. We did this over Christmas break, so it was a Very Potty Christmas *snort*.

Yay for Tito's download!! It's disgusting, it's foul, but it was in the right place!!

Did you try the old fashioned trick of giving your little one so much to drink that he had no choice BUT to let fly? Or just reading to him whilst he sat on the pot? Or simple bribes, like really cool skivvies or even sticker progress charts? We had these with limited success for Maxman.

Good luck!

turtlegirl76 said...

I'm sorry, PK. Didn't mean to snark you the wrong way on that. Really. At any rate, it was more for hoping it was head hair and not a pube. 'cause ew. Just, ew. Bleh.

Heh, "download" - Yorkie made a pun! Congrats T! And to you to too, PK. Too bad R didn't get crappy fingernails though, woulda made that x-box controller pretty squicky - then p'raps he wouldn't want to play it quite so much. Heh.

The Fluffy Ewe said...

When R is done getting T trained, send him my way, would ya? What is it with these boys? I got DS out of bed, took him straight to the potty, sat him there for an eternity, no pee. I even tried letting water run in the sink, dribbling warm wateer on him, nuttin. Put undies on the boy and he's a fricken fountain. Argh!!

Cheesy Knit Wit said...

Have you ever thought about trying your hand at stand up comedy. Seriously, you are very talented!

Poops said...

Has he had anyone teach him how to pee on a tree yet? My cousin's boys all learned outside, and then once they knew they could aim it wherever they wanted, she tossed a Froot Loop in the toilet and told them to hit that. Worked every time, or so I'm told.

Sarah said...

Yay! It might be working!

I am hoping it does.

Potty party!