When Potty Training Turned Into an Indictment of my Mothering Skills

Yes, another potty training post. When I last wrote, it felt as though we were making progress, moving towards the potty promised land. Then Turo decided he had enough. He cried, he was crabby, he didn’t want to be near the bathroom. I googled (not always the best idea). I wondered what I was doing wrong. My only job is Mother of One, and I felt I was messing up. Had I started too early? (And if so, why didn’t I know this?) Why didn’t he seem to get it? Should we stop? (We have only been at this for seven days, so are we giving up to soon? But it has been a looooong week. Or are we saving ourselves a great deal of future frustration?) I choked back a few tears (then felt ridiculous that I wanted to cry over this. Seriously, it’s potty training. I’m not trying solve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict). Somehow, it became bigger than peeing in the potty. It started to feel like a reflection on me. I know on a rational level it has nothing to do with me, but that inner critic can really get going sometimes.

So, after a family chat, we’re going to slow down the training. Move back to the pull-ups and just chill out for awhile. I’m sort of glad. I miss cheerful Turo. I miss our stress free outings. (And then, I worry that my own selfish mother needs are overriding Turo’s)

And in this, I realize that this is just the start. As Turo learns new things and ventures out into the world, there will be many moments of questioning. Up until this point, I feel like I’ve done a good job of being fairly laid back. Using books, the internet and fellow parents as a reference and then going with what feels right for us. I need to find my way back to that spot. And since future, much bigger, transitions loom ahead, I need to figure out a way to sanely negotiate the uncertainty.

Turo finds a more fashionable use for the potty seat