Fear and Loathing In The Diaper Pail

I like to think I’m the kind of parent who abides by my word on most issues. When I say there’ll be a time-out, there’s a time-out. When I say I’ll take the toy away if you don’t stop swinging it around the room, the toy gets taken away. Likewise, when I say there will be a treat for something good, I don’t renege.

In our efforts to get Liam into underpants by the time preschool starts in August, I’ve implemented the common child-rearing tactic known as bribery. When Liam sits on the potty, he gets a small bit of candy, which I let him pick out himself at the grocery store. His reward candy of choice is Dots. When he actually goes, he gets a small packet of his favorite candy, Gummi Savers.

This strategy was working for awhile. Liam could make himself poo, even when he didn’t have to. He’d MAKE something come out, just for the candy. I was worried about his butt. Liam also knew he wasn’t supposed to wet his underpants. He knew he was supposed to sit on the potty, but it seems he didnt know how to make himself go. The result was that I’d sit him on the pot, nothing would happen, he’d get some candy for his efforts and five minutes later I’d be wringing out Spider-Man undies and socks under the sink.

Finally, in this past week, Liam has gotten the hang of making himself pee. He has also learned to beat the system. He’d hop on the pot for like, 17 seconds, and say, “Candy!” He wasn’t even trying! So yesterday morning, after this blatant disregard for the honor system, I went back on my word. I changed the rules. I announced, “From now on, candy only if you go!” And I put him in underpants.

A couple of times he’d tell me he had to pee, only to try his same old trick. “No,” I’d cheerfully say. “Candy only if you go!” Even though it was only 7 a.m., I plied him with Kool-Aid (which I don’t necessarily care for, but I’m not philosophically opposed to him drinking it, like soda, and besides, desperate times call for desperate measures). And after I suggested he sit and try, he succeeded in voluntarily peeing. “Woo hoo!” I praised. “Way to go! Let me get you some CANDY!!!”

And with that, he got the message. That kid peed SEVEN TIMES by 11 in the morning. He was racking up candy left and right. He had Dots and Gummi Savers and Three Musketeers and peanut butter Hershey’s Kisses.

I put him in a diaper for his nap, which he did wet, but the rest of the day he was in the same pair of underpants. Same for today. I put him in a Pull-Up (useless for all but the most seriously-in-training) when we went out and did our errands and when we came back home it was wet. But the rest of the day he’s been in underpants and he says when he’s going to pee and sits himself down. If he hasn’t gone in 45 minutes, I suggest he try and he usually can make something happen.

So we’re making progress! He’s not all the way there yet and he hasn’t dropped a deuce today, which I’m not looking forward to, but he’s getting the hang of it for sure and I know better than to get all confident and make predictions, as that’s the quickest way to get the Parenthood Gods to laugh right in your stupid, amateur face, but I’m really thinking he’ll probably, most likely, if everything goes well, be potty trained here pretty soon. Hopefully. I think. Maybe.

So have you heard the news? I’m not nice.

Yesterday I was feeding Lucas and Liam was whining about wanting me to come “make his blanket flat” and I told him no, that he’d have to do it himself or wait until I was done with the baby and he walks away, repeating to no one in particular, “Mommy’s not nice. Mommy’s not nice. Mommy’s not nice.”

Yep, that’s me. Just a big ol’ jackass.