Tuesday – (Toilet) Water For Chocholate
Jul. 22nd, 2008 03:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermore.
.
.
Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about how sometimes if you wait long enough, you get what you want. Once it occurred to me that I have no talent for parenting, and certainly not for the finer points of parenting involved in potty training, I found myself hoping that one day my son would wake up and just be potty trained with no real effort of my part.
It worked. Seriously. No one was more surprised than I. After months of resistance, and as only one of two kids still in pull-ups in his nursery school class, he woke up one day and announced, "Mommy, I need to go potty," just as calmly as if he'd been doing this sort of thing for years. The only reason he needed me, it turns out, was because he couldn't reach the light switch on his own.
I have never run so fast to the bathroom when I, myself, did not need to go. I tripped over a few toys, leapt over the dog, and crashed into the doorframe, but I made it there in time, turned on the light, and watched in amazement as my little man dropped trou and relieved himself like a pro. Growing up, I remember from my younger brother that no all little boys are good aims. I am proud to report that my son is a natural, with a better aim than some grown men I have known.
"You are such a big boy!" I gushed when I had his pajamas back in place, "I'm so proud of you!"
He looked me in the eye and said, "I want a piece of candy."
"Oh," I said, "Is that why you did this?"
He nodded.
Suddenly, a voice in my head, that of the self-righteous person I used to be when I was childfree and thus free and easy with advise to other people about how to raise kids, screeched that no way, no how, should he be allowed to have candy when he hadn't even had breakfast. Then the voice of experience punched the other voice right between the eyes and pointed out that I had promised, and that if I welched on this deal my son would not be potty trained until somewhere around the 8th grade, because he is just that stubborn. I heard the speaker of the first voice hit the ground with a thud, and then heard the voice of experience call her a stupid bitch and dare her to try to get back up, because there was more where that came from.
You see, a few days before my son had asked for a piece of candy from a container (a Thomas the Tank Engine Trick Or Treat bucket, actually) filled with items that I, his disapproving mom, had stolen from the Valentine's Day and Easter goodie bags he'd brought home from daycare. He pestered me for candy whenever he saw it and in frustration I finally told him, "When you go potty like a big boy, you can have some candy. Until then, no."
It took a few days for him to mull this over, to weigh in on whether giving up the convenience of peeing in his pants wherever he was without having to stop in the middle of his play was worth the joy of sugary treats. That Saturday morning, faced with the prospect of yet another well-balanced, nutritious breakfast when what he was really craving was a Tootsie Pop, he decided it was. He did what he had to do, now it was up to me to hold up my end of the bargain.
A deal is a deal. He got his candy.
Now that the habit of using the toilet is well established, he sometimes forgets to ask for candy, and I try never to remind him. I was more than a little worried that I may have set a bad precedent, and am trying to control the damage. I don't want him growing up with the idea that doing what he is supposed to do must come with a material reward. I don't want to ever have him say, "Okay, I did my homework. Where's my twenty bucks?" or "I cleaned my room, now hand over the keys to the car."
The childrearing books I've thumbed through before thumbing my nose at them all say that it is a bad idea to bribe children, because children will always respond to praise and their own sense of accomplishment. In principle, I agree with this. The only problem, I guess, is that my 3 year old has an entirely different set of principles than I do.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
.
.
Today on my drive into work, I was thinking about how sometimes if you wait long enough, you get what you want. Once it occurred to me that I have no talent for parenting, and certainly not for the finer points of parenting involved in potty training, I found myself hoping that one day my son would wake up and just be potty trained with no real effort of my part.
It worked. Seriously. No one was more surprised than I. After months of resistance, and as only one of two kids still in pull-ups in his nursery school class, he woke up one day and announced, "Mommy, I need to go potty," just as calmly as if he'd been doing this sort of thing for years. The only reason he needed me, it turns out, was because he couldn't reach the light switch on his own.
I have never run so fast to the bathroom when I, myself, did not need to go. I tripped over a few toys, leapt over the dog, and crashed into the doorframe, but I made it there in time, turned on the light, and watched in amazement as my little man dropped trou and relieved himself like a pro. Growing up, I remember from my younger brother that no all little boys are good aims. I am proud to report that my son is a natural, with a better aim than some grown men I have known.
"You are such a big boy!" I gushed when I had his pajamas back in place, "I'm so proud of you!"
He looked me in the eye and said, "I want a piece of candy."
"Oh," I said, "Is that why you did this?"
He nodded.
Suddenly, a voice in my head, that of the self-righteous person I used to be when I was childfree and thus free and easy with advise to other people about how to raise kids, screeched that no way, no how, should he be allowed to have candy when he hadn't even had breakfast. Then the voice of experience punched the other voice right between the eyes and pointed out that I had promised, and that if I welched on this deal my son would not be potty trained until somewhere around the 8th grade, because he is just that stubborn. I heard the speaker of the first voice hit the ground with a thud, and then heard the voice of experience call her a stupid bitch and dare her to try to get back up, because there was more where that came from.
You see, a few days before my son had asked for a piece of candy from a container (a Thomas the Tank Engine Trick Or Treat bucket, actually) filled with items that I, his disapproving mom, had stolen from the Valentine's Day and Easter goodie bags he'd brought home from daycare. He pestered me for candy whenever he saw it and in frustration I finally told him, "When you go potty like a big boy, you can have some candy. Until then, no."
It took a few days for him to mull this over, to weigh in on whether giving up the convenience of peeing in his pants wherever he was without having to stop in the middle of his play was worth the joy of sugary treats. That Saturday morning, faced with the prospect of yet another well-balanced, nutritious breakfast when what he was really craving was a Tootsie Pop, he decided it was. He did what he had to do, now it was up to me to hold up my end of the bargain.
A deal is a deal. He got his candy.
Now that the habit of using the toilet is well established, he sometimes forgets to ask for candy, and I try never to remind him. I was more than a little worried that I may have set a bad precedent, and am trying to control the damage. I don't want him growing up with the idea that doing what he is supposed to do must come with a material reward. I don't want to ever have him say, "Okay, I did my homework. Where's my twenty bucks?" or "I cleaned my room, now hand over the keys to the car."
The childrearing books I've thumbed through before thumbing my nose at them all say that it is a bad idea to bribe children, because children will always respond to praise and their own sense of accomplishment. In principle, I agree with this. The only problem, I guess, is that my 3 year old has an entirely different set of principles than I do.
