Potty Torture

I believe the usual term is “potty training”. This term is used, however, from the perspective of the child – they are “trained” to use the potty.

From THIS parent’s perspective, however, it is clearly potty torture.

Because, unless you’ve never, ever read my blog before, you already know that my daughter can be a manipulative little bugger. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. Some days, her life simply revolves around controlling Mommy.

What better way to do this than with potty training?

Here’s the thing: Pea will be 4 in less than 1 month. A ridiculous age for such a smart little thing to still be in Huggies Pull-ups (which should be avoided at all costs unless you are ready to potty train, I will add.) She also will begin the Nursery/Reception class at the start of the summer term in April – which is only about 8 weeks away. Her best friend (in Wales), J, has already moved to Nursery/Reception. Pea misses her desperately. “Every day, Mama – I miss her every day”.

Momma is desperate to never, ever change a poopy diaper again. (My motivator.)

So Momma told her that she couldn’t wear Pull-ups to the “big school”. We talked about the fact that they don’t sell Princess Pull-ups in Wales. (Shhhh.) We talked about what we would do when she ran out, because we would run out soon. (Shhhh.) She says “I’ll just pee on the potty”.


So one sunny Friday morning (who am I kidding, its February, there is no such thing) one cloudy Friday morning, I HID the rest of her Pull-ups, save one. Which I left in the diaper basket.
For her to discover.

“Momma, its the last one! I’m gonna pee on the potty now”, she stated ever so matter-of-factly.

Famous last words.

What she did, instead, is opt to hold it.

For hours.
And hours.

I think her record is 22 hours. Her average “hold” is about 14 hours.
(The girl has a remarkably stretchy bladder. I think it extends down one leg, like her big brother’s stomach must.)

She tries, don’t get me wrong. You’ve never seen a child sit more frequently on a potty, not peeing.

And then 10 minutes later, go to her room, hide behind her rocking chair, and pee/poo on the floor.

I will say, she is industrious. She now comes to find me, saying she wiped her bum, put on clean underwear and leggings, and hands me the dripping-with-wee soaked clothes to wash. And says, I didn’t wanna go on the potty Momma. And looks at me, with a challenge clearly marked on her face.

So I’m stuck in purgatory, where she doesn’t want to pee in the potty, but she absolutely refuses to go back into Pull-ups, because “I’m a big girl, not a baby”.

I guess we keep fighting.
And scrubbing floors.

If you need me, I’m in the laundry room.

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