On Point

Today I took my kids to see the Nutcracker.  I remember seeing it almost yearly and almost yearly making a silent promise to myself that next year, I'd somehow try out.  I didn't because 1) I'd forget,  and 2) The studio which put on the production was the competitor to the dance school I attended and 3) I wasn't so much a ballerina as someone in love with performing. 

Watching the performance, I wondered what my kids thought and looked admist the perfect dancers for the ones who persisted on sheer determination.  The kid just slightly off, but giving it everything, that's the dancer for me. 

The girls knew some of the vocabulary from a movie about dancing they've taken to recently, Leap!   One asked, "Is that a grand jette?"  "Nope. Just Jette." "Is that a piroette?"  "Yes."  "How many did she do?" "Seven."  "Is that a lot?"  "Yes."  Whispered discussion about theatre ettiquitte earned me another five minutes of asking "Why?" 

I'd love for one of my girls to love dancing like I'd loved it, to want to do it even when it isn't for a performance, to love recitals.  So far, six girls, no ballerinas. 

At intermission, we perused the gift tables. Anna wanted a rhinestone tiara.  Regina wanted a sword with a scabbard or a snowglobe. (We got the snowglobe), and Rita wanted a souvenier coffee cup (though I suspect for the chocolate inside).   I looked wistfully at the toe shoe ornaments.  No one in my crew would want such a thing.

After the show, the dancers took questions and introduced themselves.  Most began dancing at four.  None danced fewer than seven years by the time they reached twelve.  The girls loved the show for the most part, they liked the costumes and the experience. 

When we got back in the car, I overheard the girls saying how grateful they were, they didn't have to do something every day.   "Yeah, like the villian's daughter in Leap! where her mom makes her dance all the time." They can't ballance on point, but they have ballanced lives I thought.   "Thanks for taking us Mom!"  "This was awesome!" "Thanks for going out with us." They enjoyed it for enjoying it, and for no other reason, and that was sufficient. 

In truth, it was the reason I got the tickets, to give them a memory.  In dance, to do a turn, you must fix your eyes and return to the spot, and not forget in mid spin where you want to go.  In parenting, the issue remains the same, stay focused, and you'll stay on point.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Every Saturday I load up the car with three of my girls for ballet lessons. Today I was relaxed about this because I had located the tutus, shoes and leotards and tights yesterday. I'm slowly learning to preempt my stress.

The older child adores her class and is ready at 7 am for her 10:15 Ballet/Tap course. The younger sister earned her slot in the First Steps Ballet class at 10:30 by becoming potty trained. "Ballerinas don't wear diapers." I explained.

There are a lot of Moms in the waiting room with only one or two children. One mom asked me today, "You're an expert with having so many kids and all...how do you potty train?"

After I stopped laughing manically, (I think I spooked her), virtually every Mom was all ears as I admitted that numbers do not an expert make. Numbers just provide cover for most of my weaknesses. (My house is a mess. It was a mess when I had only one, but now I can blame it on sheer volume). I hate homework. Numbers now require that anyone over third grade be self sufficient for the most part. Organization is a decent skill. Neatness is not. I stress over being late but I'm not punctual.

Basically, I explained that while six children have come through potty training unscathed, their mother has not. Potty training involved the child becoming self willing of the act and thus far, none of my children had willingly submitted to the indignity of self imposed body control without a mighty struggle. Others might have better ideas I volunteered.

Several Moms offered suggestions but basically, all of us said, "Wait until Summer." (The Mom in question is expecting a baby any day now). The dancers interrupted the conversation as class was over.

My daughters came up to me and started sharing the candy they got from the teacher at the end of class. This week's treat was "Smarties," Those sweet and tart little candies that come in a roll stacked like pennies and look like vaguely tinted Tylenols.

As I took off my dauther's tutu and put on her cover ups, she began putting the candies in my mouth. "What are you doing?" I asked. (There were about six she was trying to shove in there).

"Making you smarter." She explained and then gave me a kiss.

"Better give me a whole roll." I quipped as I put on her shoes.

I then turned to her sister to get her ready. The youngest girl was testing out the class; she is considering potty training. This little one almost sucks her thumb. She holds it to her mouth but does not put it in. Likewise, she sits on the potty but that's it. After class, she needed her coat and shoes too.

The first toddler daughter returned and very solemly tapped my shoulder.
She had gone back to the teacher and returned with three "Smartie" rolls.

"Here." she said. "That should do it."

I popped a roll into my mouth and hoped that maybe, it would help me get through the next girl's potty training with minimum of psychological scarring.

Gotta Dance

Today was my daughter’s first ballet lesson. She’s been aching to dance since I took her to see the Nutcracker and told her I’d signed her up. Every morning, she would ask, “Is today my dance lesson?” and we’d check the calendar. This morning, she got up, got dressed and fixed herself breakfast to be sure she wouldn’t be late. She asked me all the way there if we were late and even after we had arrived and were waiting for her class to start, she worried we’d missed it.

Stepping into the room walled with mirrors and meeting two Ms. Sarahs, she nearly swooned. Putting on her tap shoes –it is a ballet/tap class intro course, she almost exploded with joy when the teacher announced there would be a recital with costumes at the end of the semester. I took her younger sister and baby brother back to the waiting room after watching a few shuffle steps.

On the first floor of the dance studio, a “First Steps” class was beginning.

Parents were coming in with two, three and four year olds and in some cases, practically crowbaring the children off their legs. One daughter pouted at her father and refused to go into the room. It was probably a bad call on the instructor’s part to have them dancing to “Maybe” from Annie.

My daughter however, was enchanted. The director told her she could watch. After five minutes, my three year old, who isn’t really the “watching” type, immersed herself in the class. The instructor didn’t mind but I saw an opportunity. “This is a one time deal.” I explained. “Why?” she asked.

“Because ballerinas don’t wear diapers.” This may seem cruel but all’s fair in love and potty wars. My daughter nodded her head and returned to the class. There, she danced and flipped and followed directions. She outshone all the other students with her sheer joy and willingness to do whatever the instructor said.

The director saw an opportunity too. When the class was over, she handed my daughter a white leotard in a plastic bag. “You can have this. Wear it when you’re potty trained." Her teacher smiled and said "We’ll see you in class.”

The director and instructor had just earned my undying love and loyalty with their backing me up.

My daughter reverently took the bag and held it tight to her heart. She explained to me that she was going to be in this class this coming Saturday because she would be a big girl and wear underwear.

She went home and that’s just what she did.

I don’t know about my three year old but personally, I “GOTTA DANCE.”

The Potty Wars

I hate potty training. Really. I hate it. Why? Despite having five children out of diapers, I cannot point to any one of them as being a success because of my efforts. None of them have ever willingly embraced the idea of wearing underwear over diapers. None of them have been easy. None of the diaper set still pending looks to be easy on this point either.

I love my kids.
I love being a parent.

I hate potty training.
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Potty Training with Child #1
Behavior management doesn’t work.

We went to the store.
We bought a small potty.
We bought stickers.
We bought “M&Ms.”
We brought it home.
We set it up.
We started the week with high hopes.
I made a chart.
I put the chart on the bathroom door.
I put the “M&M’s” in the freezer.
I put the stickers in an envelope next to the chart.
I explained to my son the idea.
He would try to go potty.
He would earn stickers (happy faces).
If he was successful, he got “M&M’s.”

Within a week,
my son drew a picture of himself.
He explained, he’s unhappy because he just had an accident.
He then began to cry. I looked at the picture.
The unhappy face stick figure burned into my brain.
Horrified,
I threw away the chart, gave him the stickers and then,
I ate the “M&M’s.”
Four months later, we were still changing diapers at 3 and nearly 8 months.
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Potty Training with Child #2
Bribes don’t work either.

We cut out a picture of a ballerina and taped it on the fridge.

The deal was simple enough, if she went potty and could wear underwear, she could do ballet.
We bought the underwear in advance.
We went to watch the ballet class.
We even bought the slippers and tutu and put them in her closet.

Our daughter sensed that this was worth even more than we were offering.

Within two months, a picture of a bike was added, at her request. She also wanted to go to school.

I stupidly agreed to it all, anything to get the job done.

Four long months later, she demanded payment in full,
for her very first success.

We explained (rationally) that she had to do this more than once.

She grew angry.

Four more months later, diapers were still on our grocery list, and she was 3 years and 7 months old.
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Potty Training with Child #3
A watched child never potties.

Every 25 minutes, we took her.
That got old fast.
You can’t go anywhere or do much of anything.
Our lives revolved around the attempt to keep that commitment of every 25 minutes.
After a weekend of that, I was ready to be committed.

So we tried a combined approach of what had sort of worked before.
The chart was back.
The stickers were back.
The bribes were back,

None of it worked.

A friend recommended the Couch Potato technique.
It sounded promising.
We should stick a tv in the bathroom with her.
We’ll turn it on and she’ll sit. She’ll relax, and bingo! She’ll go.
She got hours of cartoons out of that deal.

Four months later, we were still trying for our first success at 3 1/2.

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Potty Training with Child #4
It’s his potty and he’ll cry if he wants to.

This time, we tell ourselves, it will be different.

We have read the books.
We have looked at magazines.
We have learned from our mistakes.
And, we are starting earlier.

Our son is newly two.

Our son likes his new underwear.
He likes his stickers.
He sits on the potty.
We praise him often, just for thinking about sitting.

Somewhere in the process,
something breaks down.
He decides, he doesn’t want to.

We take him any way.
I don’t want to!
He sobs.
We make him sit.
I don’t want to!
He screams!

We drag him to the bathroom.
He cries when he sits on the potty.
I …..gasp!..... hate…..gasp!....the….gasp!....potty!
One day, I see him clutching his body
and sprint him to the bathroom.
I sit him down, saying as calmly as I can,
“I know you need to go.”
“NO! You! Don’t!” he sulks back.
I sit in there with him, reading books.
I clean the bathroom while I wait.
I organize the towels,
And the sheets,
And the medicine cabinet.
I know I can’t spend the whole day in the bathroom, and
I can’t leave him there forever,
But nothing happens until I diaper him up.

Then he comes to me immediately
“I need a diaper change.”
sweetness in his voice and innocent eyes.

Our son held out until he was nearly four.

Our bathroom looked very nice for those two years.

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Potty Training with Child #5
Seek Professional Help.

Okay, we are getting desperate.

Yes, four children have managed to potty train, but not one before the age of 31/2! I have been driven nearly insane by the process. I remain doubtful about my prospects for success with my daughter. As I have a toddler and am expecting my seventh, the idea of three in diapers makes me literally faint of heart.

It is summer. All the books say that is the best time to do this.
We consult friends. The collective advice is to go Cold Turkey.
No Diapers. Not even at night. The theory is that within one week,
she will train herself.

A week passes, two, three. By the fourth week, I have washed every item of clothing and all of her bedding at least eleven times, the carpet has spots and smells faintly of carpet cleaner. Not one success.

Summer passes. We try pull-ups. These are simply more expensive diapers that prey upon parents’ hopes and create laundry at the same time.

We’ve had no success and we’ve been at it since April. I quit for a time and resign myself to changing three different sized diapers multiple times daily.

Then, one day, I crack.

She gets up and is dry.
I take off the diaper and explain that today, she will potty.
I sit her down. I bring her a book. I set the timer.
Twenty minutes pass, nothing.

I change her baby brother and the baby. Checking on her,
she is still looking at the book. I fix breakfast. Determined, I bring breakfast in on a step stool for her, and set it up next to her potty. “Thanks Mom.” She says with a beautiful smile. I go away feeling like Super Mommy.

I fix her brother breakfast and nurse the baby. After getting them dressed, I pick out clothing for my new big girl, my heart full of hope. Going to check on her, the phone rings. The call takes about five minutes, and then I do the dishes, absent mindedly forgetting to check. The baby needs nursing and changing again. My son needs his face washed and socks and shoes.

When I remember my daughter is still in the bathroom, I run upstairs, and there she is, sitting on her potty, fast asleep.

There is nothing in the toilet.

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Potty Training with Child #6
Global Warming

This kid has seen potty training at its ugliest. He knows what is expected and is old enough to take care of business. He also has a sense of humor.

His favorite joke is to sit on the portable potty and then announce, “I did it Mom.”

When I go over to check, he laughs and says, “It’s a trick Mom. I tricked you.”

One day I said, “It’s time to potty now.” He looked outside at the weather and said, “Today isn’t a good day for pottying.”

The M&M’s are still in the freezer waiting.

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The Last Word

I saw in a magazine that the average mom changes 3,175 diapers by the time a child is 2 &3/4 years old. I know that I have been changing diapers since 1993. Using that figure and accounting for the fact that none of my children have made it out of diapers before the age of 3&1/2, I have done the math. No one should ever know these sorts of stats, but from these calculations, I estimate I am responsible for a land fill the size of Rhode Island.

I still have a chance to have an easy pottying experience, our two youngest are still in diapers. Their father has a standing offer to any child who potty trains before the age of 3, he will buy them a car.

And once it does happen finally for our youngest child, once I am finally diaper free…..

the kids want a dog.