Potty Training Rant

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Potty training is turning out to be about so much more than poop…

Around the time I first separated from my son’s father I remember going to a friend’s party where one of the guest’s mothers-hailing from the forests of Sara Palin-ville wiggled her way into a conversation about the divorce to caution me:   “It’s  gonna be really tough being a single parent.”

yeah, so is being an emotionally and borderline physically battered parent… is what I reallllllly wanted to say, BUT I miraculously contained myself…

What I did reply was well, I have a good community to support me.

Which I do… but really… when it’s poop time…

when its put your bum in that potty and poo time… yeah its  just me and you kiddo…well, and now this pink three- in-one potty-step stool- basketball hoop.

“Do you put underwear on him at home?” is the question I got this week from my well meaning childcare provider…

When? my one hour with him in the morning and my one hour at night after a full work day?

and so begins the internal monologue…

Shit! Should  I be doing more?

Yes, I can always do more.

Why am I not doing  more?

Damn I suck.

My son is gonna be three soon and he is so not anywhere close to being potty trained.  Because he is stuck with me as his mother he won’t have friends or good grades or a decent life and he’s gonna stink all the time and it’ll be my fault….

Needless to say I am feeling spread thin.  Working full time  but still struggling to make rent…to make time for writing… for   grad school… feeling the pressure build… and people around me have no idea… how close I am to ripping apart at the seams… to  bursting apart, sending pieces of me up and away like un-diapered pee spray

I hate Walmart but since my car is busted I cant drive far and I needed to get a handle on this potty training thing… So I went to exploit-mart and picked up the cheapest thing they had (apparently these plastic chamber pots can get pretty pricey), a pink three in one frog decorated potty.

I set it up and what I assumed would be a comfortable place to cop a squat and whip out the “potty time” book. Ali sits on it for a good ten  minutes genuinely interested but  nope…no peepee no poopoo no nothing…

oh wait

Unless you count the balls my son thought would be fun to throw in… now he has a new game.

Associates the little pink plastic bowl with the “splash guard” as a basketball hoop instead of a place where pee goes… great..

Fabulous…

And these fresh outta college twenty somethings I work with, who think ‘the baby itch’ is a subtropical mosquito borne illness have no idea how difficult it is to introduce a new routine to an already packed and super crazy schedule…

Took me months to remember to have Ali brush his teeth once he got them in for the first time…WHAT? another thing to do before rushing out the door?    They don’t make dissolving chewing sticks for you little people?

Or when he started eating solids… another hurdle to get used to… instead of just pulling out the boob and being done, now I have to actually think ahead… pack and freeze… purchase baby sized utensils..bpa free…took me a good 20 minutes to decided on a brand…damn consumerism…

So yeah I am 10 min late to work…but my son is clean damit! ( after changing his pee soaked sheets and getting another bath) and fed…and has good dental hygiene (today)

and so am I….At least  I think I remembered to brush my teeth today…

And every parent knows that as soon as you get used to a routine it changes.  I am so grateful for him growing and learning.  Grateful for him being in my life period… but it scares me to think I am doing my best and my best just isn’t good enough…

because it’s just me…

I just wish I could get a little slack…

just a little…?

..so “NO” ….I haven’t been putting underwear on him…

but we’re…

I mean

I’m

working on it…

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