This is how we do it now...

Here it is.  I teased it in my Five Stages of {Potty Training} Grief post.  (If you missed it, you can read it here.)

And now, as promised - this is what we did to potty train The Incredible Hulk.

As you'll remember from the aforementioned post, potty training did not happen overnight.  The only thing we remained consistent about was this methodology.  No matter what...even when we wanted to deviate...we remained consistent.  If you take nothing else away from this post, please take this - BE CONSISTENT.  Using the bathroom is a behavior. You are shaping that behavior.  The minute that you remove some of your own reinforcers or change them, the message gets lost in translation.  If Pavlov had switched from a bell to a siren, it would not have elicited the same response from his dogs.  So, unless what you are doing is truly not working (given multiple trials), stick with what you are doing.  Whatever method you're using, that's the most important thing.  Okay?  Write that down.  That part is important.

Next you'll need to gather some materials:

- A LARGE supply of underwear (Remember when you have a newborn and have no time or energy for loads of laundry so you buy 300 onesies so you only have to do laundry once a week instead of every time the baby spits up?  Same concept.)

- A chart (This doesn't have to be anything fancy, but I found a few free printable ideas on Pinterest.  You can find those here.)  I made our chart with a Sharpie and a piece of printer paper.

- Edible rewards (These can be used for both mom/dad and the kiddo.  Trust me, you'll need some reinforcement.  TIH's personal favorite was yogurt covered raisins.  Mommy preferred M&Ms.)

- Stickers (We seem to have an abundance of these around the house, but they can often be found in the dollar section at Target.  Again, it doesn't have to be something fancy.  A little drawing or a check mark would work too.)

- A large plastic tub or bucket (Any size will do, but you want to be able to fill it with a supply of small toys to "earn" throughout potty training sessions.)

- A multitude of small toys (I raided the clearance section at Target, the dollar store, bought coloring books, crayons, small treats - whatever works for your kid.  The first toy TIH chose was a 50 cent plastic snake.  Seriously. It can be anything.)

- Cleaning supplies (Because...well, let's be honest.)


Okay, now you have your materials.  Now here's the plan.

This is a working mom friendly blog, right?  Not all working moms get 2 weeks of vacation at a time.  I happened to get exactly that.  I truly feel this could be done over a long weekend or the matter of a few days, but that's going to be a game time decision for you.  I knew TIH would need a bit more time.  So, use what time you have.  This is best completed with some nice one on one time.  Parents with more than one kid at home?  Chances are you're better at this than me, but you might need someone else to help you out with the other kiddo.  The potty training kid needs some undivided attention.  Or, just be ready to clean up some messes.  And that's okay too.  Momming is messy.

So, my first step was waiting until my vacation was coming up.  The weeks before the vacation, when TIH came home from school, we would immediately change him into underwear from his diaper.  This was to encourage him to pay attention to the signals of when he had to go to the bathroom.  This actually didn't go too bad.  He would have accidents, but it appeared he started to learn when it was going to happen and would try to make to the bathroom.  Once we had all of that in place, we started the actual plan.

(Again, there is lots of poop talk to follow...so, there you go.)

1.  We woke up on a Monday morning and put him in underwear.  I said to him over and over again, "If you have to go potty, what do you say?"  TIH would say, without fail, "Mommy?  I have to go potty."  He repeated it like a script.

2.  Every time he sat on the potty he got 1 edible.  Whether or not anything happened.  Always 1 edible for sitting.  If he had an accident prior to sitting, he still would get the M&M (or yogurt raisin).  The M&M reinforces the sitting and trying.  So whether or not he is successful, we still want the behavior of sitting to continue.  Make sense?  (You can thank my BCBAs.)

3.  Every time he successfully went pee in the toilet, he got 1 sticker on his chart.  He also got 3 edibles.  The reason for the edible is the instant gratification factor.  The sticker is a delayed reinforcement system.  So he needed something immediate to reinforce the behavior, but also needed something to work towards.

4.  Every time he successfully went poop in the toilet (eventually...this part was an uphill battle), he got 2 stickers on his chart.  I went back and forth on how I felt about this.  It seemed to me that giving the poop more weight, may actually increase his anxiety about doing it on the potty.  I'm still not totally sure it didn't do exactly that.  But, it was a plan and instead we decided to remain consistent.  He still got the 3 edibles as well.

5.  When he earned 5 stickers on his chart, he would get to pick a prize from the tub of toys.  I labeled the plastic toy tub with a smiley face and put a smiley face at the end of the five stickers as a reminder of what he was working for.  All I had to do was count the stickers he had earned and then point to the smiley face and he would say "I get ANOTHER TOY!"  This part went REALLY well.  I knew it was working when he would try to earn toys faster by sitting on the potty for a second, doing nothing, and saying "I get a sticker!"  He didn't get a sticker (only if he actually went), but I knew that by "faking" it he was enjoying working for the toys, stickers, and edibles.

6.  If he did both at the same time, we gave him 3 stickers.  But always just 3 edibles.  Those were our rules.  You can make your own.  As long as you stick to the same plan every time.

The great thing about this plan was that it could travel.  I could bring a plastic baggy of M&Ms and his sticker chart with us.  He could pick out a toy when he got home if he earned it while we were gone.  Being mobile definitely helped to relieve the "trapped" feeling I had in the initial days of potty training. Also, there was always LOTS AND LOTS of verbal praise.  Never enough verbal praise.  We were hoarse from screaming "YAY PEE PEE ON THE POTTY!!!" by the end of the week.  It's okay.  Keep it up.  They love that stuff almost as much as they love the stickers and chocolate.


When it was time for him to return to school, we kept all of this up at home.  Since we got a report of any accidents while at school, every time he came home without any accidents, he would automatically get a toy (we assumed he had at least 5 successful trips to the potty while at school.)  As soon as he got home we just started up again with his sticker chart.  Once he had earned several toys and gone through several sticker charts, we upped the ante a bit.  He had to now earn 10 stickers for a prize.  Eventually (within a couple of months) we were able to fade all of this (except for the verbal praise, that will never end) and still have success on the potty.

Where we stand now is that he hasn't had a single accident in about a week.  In recent times, when we have had accidents, it has been because he is distracted or too busy.  We are usually able catch him in the act and still make him go to the toilet.  Followed by lots of positive praise for trying.

I can't give TIH's preschool enough props.  Very quickly, his teachers were able to pick up on his cues and knew they sometimes had to push him to try the potty even when he adamantly refused.  Plus lots of praise.  Because they're awesome like that.

So, that's that.  Please feel free to email me your questions.  I can help you troubleshoot.  Or, I can tell you which box of wine yields the most glasses and which carpet cleaner gets stains and smells out the best.  It's all relevant.

Privilege to pee...

As I mentioned in my return post, I decided in June to use my two weeks of summer break to once and for all attempt to potty train The Incredible Hulk.  I promise that I will give you a post about our methodology (UPDATE, you can find that here), but the only thing you really need to know is who your kid is and what works for them.  Sure, I read up on some blogs and books and consulted my friendly BCBAs at work, but in truth, I just know TIH.  In fact, some days, that's all I know.

The other thing you need to consider before you embark upon this potty training adventure is the wide range of emotions you will experience along the way.  And, given my background in therapy, I was able to see a pattern of sorts.

This post will feature some frank discussion of poop, so if you're not into that sort of thing, you probably have never potty trained someone before.  Good for you.

No.  Really. Good. For. You.

The 5 Stages of {Potty Training} Grief

Denial
For me, this stage started a year ago when some of my friends successfully potty trained their children who were similar in age to TIH.  I tried to blame it on gender differences, TIH's lack of vocabulary, our tumultuous year, and pretty much anything I could think of to get me out of the idea that I would have to one day teach another person to defecate in a specific location.  His school gave him opportunities (most of which were successful) to try the potty.  But, at home, he was pretty darn happy in his diaper and I was pretty darn happy for him to be in his diaper.  (This coming from someone who once sobbed when she realized how many diapers she changed in a single day.)  Denial continued when we started trying him out in his underpants and he would wet them almost every time.

"Oh, maybe we should try after he turns 3."

"I don't want to push him and give him some sort of Freudian complex." (This coming from someone who has never enjoyed the complexities of misogynistic psychodynamic theory.)

"Our wood floors will never be the same."

Eventually, I realized I just had to jump right into it.  I had two weeks off of school and I kept him home with me for most of those two weeks.  Using the methodology I developed mostly from some educated guesswork, I got him to finally stop saying "I want to wear my diapers FOREVER!" and we were officially potty training.  We had three successful trips to the potty and I was on top of the world.

Anger
After some successful trips to the potty and a nap (wearing a Pull-Up, I'm not insane), TIH woke up, happy to put back on his big boy underpants.  And then, while we were playing, I saw him get a familiar look.  I said, "Do you have to go to the bathroom?" and he said "I NEED MY DIAPER."  What followed involved throwing little boy underpants in the trash can and an accent rug that I'll never be able to look at the same way.  I can't say I was angry at TIH.  He was new at this and we sort of sprung it on him..  But, I was really angry at myself.  Angry for not starting sooner.  Angry for starting so soon.  Angry for not having a degree in behavioral analysis.  Anger at poop in general.  The same person that at one time hated changing diapers, REALLY hated cleaning up accidents.  There were tears.  Both from me and TIH. He yelled at me a lot.  He really did not want to do this.  And he begged me...A LOT for his diaper.  I channeled my anger in healthy ways (like eating large handfuls of potty training M&Ms), but it was still very difficult to come home knowing that I would likely have to clean up another mess.  I also knew that we could not go backward by giving in and putting him in a diaper.  And that, made me more angry than anything else.

Bargaining
After one successful trip at "dropping the kids off at the pool" I started to feel a lot more confident about our abilities to conquer the potty training beast.  TIH did NOT feel the same.  He was still very much in the anger phase of "putting his poop in the potty," and avoided it at all costs.  This did include me physically lifting him onto the toilet SEVERAL times when I KNEW he was trying to go in his pants.  (For those of you well-versed in bathroom independence, I KNOW, I KNOW, but I could NOT clean another mess up off of my floors.  I couldn't.)  And with all of this assistance, it still rarely yielded results.

This is when I began to bargain with him.  I say bargain, but what I really mean is shamelessly BRIBING him to go on the potty.  Forget the behavior system I had so carefully worked out.  (I promise, I will share that with interested parties in the near future.)  Forget the fact that I do not have a million dollars.  I would have given it to him if he would just crap in the toilet.

I offered him a bike.  I offered him a scooter.  I offered him an entire economy-sized bag of M&Ms.  I said I would give him anything he wanted.  What TIH said was, "I want a plunger."  I said, "What color?"  He thought about it and said, "Yellow."  Check my Google history.  I SEARCHED FOR A FREAKING YELLOW PLUNGER.  (Also, can we talk about how apropos that gift would have been?  Didn't matter.  He pooped his pants like 3 minutes later.)

Depression
The feeling I got at this point was akin to the moment that I realized I changed 12 diapers in not as many hours.  It is overwhelming knowing that someone is depending on you for such a basic need while you are forsaking many of your own basic needs (sleep, showering, eating, etc.)  Except that diapers can contain the mess for a little while and cotton Mickey Mouse briefs cannot.  I felt very trapped in our home.  I felt like if we went to the store or even for a walk to the playground, there was a possibility of having to clean up a mess in a public place.  (Which sort of reminded me of my fears of going out into the public while breastfeeding and not wanting to do that in public.)

That isolated feeling made me feel quite depressed.  TIH was bored of our four walls and lost interest in the toys/stickers he was earning almost as soon as he earned them.  At this point, it was difficult even to celebrate the successful trips to the potty because I always dreaded if the next one would end up being another accident to clean up.

(I know, I'm really selling it on this potty training thing.  Don't you all want to run out and do this now?!)

Acceptance
Fortunately, I made my way through the depression stage quickly (years of experience, perhaps) and accepted that we had attempted this too early and that he would need to return to wearing a diaper. I reluctantly renewed my Subscribe & Save order from Amazon.com and went for a run to clear my mind.  And while I was gone, I got a text from my husband:

"WE HAVE A POOP."

TIH, finally accepting that the diapers were gone for good, told his daddy that he needed to use the potty and went poop all by himself.

They say that the day you have your kids is the best day of your life.  They're wrong.  For me, it was when we took a celebratory trip into the city and my kid asked me to go potty and was able to go by himself in the small closet that barely resembles a bathroom on the train.  (Dude, I'm almost 30 and that is still hard for me to navigate.)  In fact, he was able to remain dry for our entire trip to the city - utilizing a variety of bathrooms (the train station, a restaurant, a tree in Millennium Park...).


So, that's our story.  Methodology to come, but don't get caught up in all of that.  I say, with sage wisdom, it will happen eventually.  I can't promise that your journey through this madness will go the same way or have such a happy ending, but I can tell you that however you do get there - you're going to need a lot of Clorox wipes.

Show me now...

I know several people who are trying to sell their homes right now.  Some of whom have actually given up because of this soul sucking real estate market.  So, yes.  I know after selling our house in 31 days that we are pretty much as lucky as lucky can be.


However.  Make no mistake.  This is the New Mom on the Blog house.  So, of course - we had some pretty spectacular (read: disastrous) showings.  The best of all of them?  OUR VERY FIRST.  Thought I'd share this story with you.


{Disclaimer:  Like all disastrous stories involving toddler - this story does involve poop.  Tread lightly.  Wait.  No.  Ew.}


It was the first Saturday morning after our house was on the market and my husband and I were slowly beginning the process of cleaning our house.  The both of us had divided up the list of chores and were going about our business.  I was leisurely scrubbing a toilet and he was absentmindedly dusting in the living room while a very well-behaved TIH played independently with his toys.  (I know, I know.  Get to the point, Gwyneth.)

I was just about finished with the first bathroom when my husband came bounding up the stairs and announced with a certain amount of glee – our agent had called to tell us we had our first showing.

We both did a little happy dance and, noting that we only had about 2 hours to get our house spotless, began to manically scrub every stable surface, both of us giddy with the prospect of our first showing.   In fact, we were so giddy that periodically, we’d pass each other and give a little “Whoo hoo!”  I may have even danced with a mop as I cranked the volume on my favorite Pandora station.  Our house was a chorus of “Whoo hoos!” and “Yays!” and “OUR FIRST SHOWING!!!”  I am generally not this happy and giddy unless it involves a new Twilight movie or several glasses of wine.  (Or, both.)  I was finishing up my cleaning in the last bathroom (this is a very important part of the story to keep in mind - all of my bathrooms were impeccably clean) when my husband came upstairs, holding our toddler away from him as though he was radioactive.

It turns out – he was.

As my husband later explained to me, he was in the middle of doing his own “Whoo hoo” happy dance when TIH walked up to him with a frankly horrified look on his little toddler face.  My husband quickly assessed the situation, asking “What’s wrong, buddy?” when he noticed a little something on the carpet.  On closer inspection, he saw that our son had had the most epically explosive episode of diarrhea in the whole history of ever, and – now this is the really gross part – was literally trailing poo on the carpet of our living room.  The very living room that we were hoping some kind people would come and see and love and purchase from us in approximately 45 minutes.  (New owners: if you're currently reading this?  HA.  No givesies backsies!!)

So, after teaching our son a few curse words, we stripped him of every article of clothing TIH was wearing and promptly threw it away.  We quarantined him into the largest of our bathrooms.  Once we had him undressed, we discovered the poor little guy was, quite literally, up to his neck in poo.  Lord knows why, in our singing, dancing, "whoo hooing" frenzy, we didn't notice.  We hosed him down in the shower while he screamed and cried (and no wonder, my husband and I probably looked INSANE while we dealt with this.)  I worked on drying and cleaning him up while my husband tended to the carpet.  Then we switched and I once again scrubbed down the bathroom.  At this point, I had sweat literally pouring off of me as I hauled the vacuum up flights of steps, shoved laundry into drawers, dusted and Windexed any surface we hadn’t already gotten to, and packed a diaper bag so we could leave the house.  I attempted another happy dance and “whoo hoo,” but it made me look like someone who belonged in the nervous hospital so I stopped immediately.

We walked out of the house with only about a minute to spare.  Praying the potential buyers wouldn’t notice the parts of the house we didn’t get as clean as we would have liked.  Praying we wouldn’t have to go through this for very much longer.  Praying, mostly, that the house didn’t smell like baby poop.


We were about 10 minutes down the road when we received another call from our agent’s office.

The showing agent had decided to cancel.

The disappointment was palpable as my husband made a u-turn back towards our house, looked at me sheepishly, and said, “Whoo hoo?”


The. End.

That's just the way it is...

In my less-than-two-years of motherhood, I have noticed a few universal constants in the ever complicated equation of taking care of a child.  Allow me to share these with you:

1.       Your toddler will run a fever, have explosive diarrhea, or vomit at daycare on the day where both you and your husband have a million and a half work things to do and cannot possibly go pick him up.  (A common variant is to have this happen when you have nothing to do at work, but also have almost no sick time available to you.)

2.   Your child's symptoms will only last long enough for you to pick them up from daycare.  The fever/vomiting/pooping will resolve around the time you arrive home and not return for the required 24 hour period away from daycare.  In its place, you will find your child has an insatiable amount of energy and decreased need for sleep.

3.       Your toddler will always poop himself the minute you are walking out the door only on the days when you are running heinously late.

4.       Your Amazon Mom Subscribe and Save order will always ship the day after you run out and buy a jumbo box of diapers (having already depleted your emergency stash as well as made your toddler make do with two sizes too small diapers for a week.)

5.       Your diaper bag will always be packed with an extra full set of clothes – except for the day when you are nowhere near home, it is 30 degrees outside, and your child has had a blow out.

Can you think of any I left out?  Please share.

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I shared my experience with a another universal constant (unrelated to motherhood...well, sort of) on Mommy Shorts and was subsequently selected for a contest.  Pretty pretty please hop on over there and vote for me?  I hate losing things.  Also, fair warning, the story I am sharing is EXTREMELY crass.  See.  Now you really want to go over there and check it out.  My story is under "Amanda" and you can vote for it by clicking the radio button for "Period Surprise."  Yep.  Bet you're really excited now.