As excited as I am to have a child that uses the toilette rather than diapers, there is a whole new patch of tricky situations for me to weed through. The trickiest of all being public accidents and the patience required to deal with them gracefully. Or, maybe the trickiest of all is poop in pants sans diaper. Either way, there is a teensy lazy piece of my mind that is telling me “go ahead, just put a diaper on him, it will be easier”. I try my best to ignore that voice, she has been helping me make terrible decisions for years. She is the one that is always telling me four glasses of wine is better than three. She is wrong every time. But pee, down a leg and into a shoe, in the middle of a store...
It isn’t the actual pee that presents the problem. It is trying to keep a measured tone so as not alarm or make ashamed the pee-er. Claiming that accidents happen and that everyone has them in a cheery tone is tough to get out through clenched teeth. Looking cool while reaching into my Conestoga wagon size purse to fetch a change of clothes and something to clean up with is a skill I have yet to master. Other parents try to help, or give words of encouragement. The childless glare or avert their eyes.
Public humiliation and an extra load of laundry among family is all part of the glory that is learning to use the potty. I just know we will have this behind us sooner than later. And Tennessee could not be prouder to have moved on from the land of things “babyish” to the wonders of big boy-ville. I am sure I will long for potty training when the driving years come. Deep breathes.
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