Yes, it’s that time in our children’s lives where bathroom activities are discussed all day long, and the excitement of an emptied bladder permeates the home.
We’ve read the books, heard form other parents, and tried everything, but we’re not even close. Siena is almost four years old — I’m fond of saying she’s almost a teenager, as if to emphasize the point — and she still insists on wearing diapers regularly. Oren, younger but on a more promising path, follows in her Pampered footsteps.
For me, the stakes are huge. Every unnecessary diaper contributes to the needless destruction of the environment. Every set of soiled clothes — and let me tell you, Oren has some real talent, because he often manages to dampen everything from shirt to socks — is another hour wasted either doing lanudry or battling off tantrums about some unavailable pair of favorite underwear.
It’s my style to put everything on the line, all or nothing, when I’m frustrated or angry. “That’s it, no more diapers allowed, let them constipate themselves for all I care!,” I’ll yell, or “Wear diapers if you want. You can change yourselves, too.” My struggle is in trying to accept the small successes and failures, and not view them indicative of absolutely everything. I am so tired of staring critically into yet another bowl.
Tonight, Siena sat on the toilet, because she wanted to. She invited the whole family into the tiny bathroom and sat there. And before my wife could retrieve Everyone Poops from the upstairs bathroom, it was over. “Did you hear the plop?” Siena asked. I smiled by best dad smile and told her I was proud. From experience, I know these thirty seconds don’t translate into a litetime of happier parenting, but I can’t help but wonder.
My hopes are literally flushed down the toilet. But yeah, that’s a good thing.