Well, they're at it again. My kids are teaching me instead of the other way around. I'll call this lesson "less is more," and it took me two go-arounds to begin to learn it.
When things aren't going the way I'd envisioned, I tend to go into hyperdrive trying to remedy the situation. As I've made abundantly clear, Gus was not a quick study when it came to potty training. I was at my wits' end after months of little to no success getting my little man toward a life without diapers. Our children's incontinence, I lamented to my husband, was getting expensive.
We tried everything from small rewards to promises of big ones. Sometimes we took a hard line, making him sit for potty breaks against his will. Sure, we had fleeting brushes with success, but nothing was getting us consistent results.
In desperation, I searched the internet one day for "potty training resistance" and came across an article from Contemporary Pediatrics. The first sentence that caught my eye was this one: "The most common cause of resistance to toilet training is that a child has been reminded or lectured too much." Ooh, guilty as charged.
The article went on to state that healthy children older than 3 who are not potty trained are assumed to be resistant, not under-trained. Transfer all potty-training responsibility to your child, the author wrote. Apologize for forcing him to use the toilet in the past and make it clear you will not be doing that again. Stop all reminders, as they are a form of pressure, which only furthers the power struggle. Have the child get himself cleaned up after accidents.
All of this made sense to me, especially with Gus. As soon as I read the words power struggle, it was obvious to me that we were in the grips of exactly that. I also knew that this advice would not be easy to follow. No, it would be a leap of faith. The stopping of reminders was the hardest part. I did my best to stick to it, though I admit I did cheat from time to time, kidding myself that telling Gus to "listen to his body" wasn't exactly a reminder. Stick to it we did though, and little by little we began to see results. Of course, it was a process. But after about three to four weeks, he had come a long way. For the first time ever, I felt confident enough to send G to drop-in at the Y wearing underwear rather than a Pull-up.
It's been about two months since Gus's breakthrough. He's not perfect, but he's right where I'd expect a boy his age to be. After waiting so long, I still feel a rush of glee every time he remembers to get to the potty.
You would think after all that, I would have learned my lesson, but no. This spring, Mark and I decided it was time for Paul to learn to ride a two-wheeler. His friends knew how; it seemed like something an about-to-be-first-grader ought to know how to do. The only problem: Paul didn't want to learn. He had no interest whatsoever. On we pressed, though, coercing him into trying it, offering a small reward for success. Sound familiar? I don't know if you've ever taught a child to ride a bike, but it's pretty difficult if he is taking no initiative.
After a few days of trying and failing to make any progress, Mark and I set aside the goal, didn't even really think about it. Weeks passed. Then one night, out of the blue, Paul said he wanted to learn to ride his bike. Darn if he didn't learn that very night. I don't know what changed his mind, but I do know that the decision needed to be his.
As I celebrate the joy of no more diapers and my middle son taking yet another step toward growing up, I hope I've finally learned my lesson. Next time a situation that may or may not need my intervention arises, I will stop and think - and maybe choose to be just a little more hands-off.
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