Get the Potty Started

One of the most frustrating things a parent can ever experience is the potty-training of their child.
Some don't take long at all, while others take longer.
It can be especially frustrating if you're a 'newbie' parent still getting the hang of things with an only child.
My wife and I are certainly no exception.
Our potty training efforts with our daughter began before she turned two.  We incentivized it with treats, and even a return trip to Splash Lagoon, an indoor water park about an hour and a half away in Erie, Pennsylvania.
The Splash Lagoon trip was especially fun.  With every successful attempt, she earned her way towards a letter that, with others, would ultimately spell out "SPLASH LAGOON".
We got about as far as "SPLASH LAG".
While it helped her get "Number One" down pat, and ultimately moving her from Pull-Ups to big-girl undies, we were still struggling with "Number Two".
Despite our best efforts, we could not get her to go "on time".  That is, getting her to tell us she had to go before she "went".
"Savannah, do you have to go potty?"
"No, I just went (in my pants)."
Makes the blood boil.
I once read in a Calvin and Hobbes book that being a parent makes you want to hug and strangle your kid at the same time.
Sometimes a change in venue might do the trick.
Our annual vacation to Hilton Head Island was the perfect opportunity.
We had warned her before that if she pooped in the pool at our condo, that she would not be able to go swimming again.
She wasn't too happy with that.
Especially in a place where she could swim any day she wanted, for as long as she wanted.
After we made it to the condo, we took her to the pool.
Then it came.
"I GOTTA GO POTTY!"
With the speed of Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson to the Bat-poles, Margie yanked Savannah from the pool and towards the bath house.  I kept an eye on them both.
Almost made it.  Down her leg and onto the sidewalk.
After Margie and Savannah failed to emerge from the bath house after a few minutes, I went up to investigate.
And after I made a visual confirmation, I knocked on the women's lavatory door.
Margie poked her head out.
"Did she go?" I asked.
Margie shook her head.
"She says she did, but I couldn't see anything."
After I relayed what had happened, Margie apologized to Savannah for doubting her.
From that point on, it was all downhill.
When she says she's gotta go, she's gotta go.
And now, every day when she does go, she reminds us of our promise.
"I get to go to Splash Lagoon!"
Lest we forget.



NEXT WEEK:  Affiliations