A pee – pee licious time at the beach…
Five reasons you shouldn’t potty train right before a vacation.
Perhaps a week of non stop potty training, no diapers, and constant runs to the porcelain princess throne was indeed a great idea. After all the hard work, my baby was pretty much potty trained….and then we had a five hour bumper to bumper traffic filled trip to the beach…you can imagine her confusion when I said, “Just go in your pull up.” We were no where near a bathroom…her eyes got really wide and she kept saying, “bathroom, bathroom,” and I said, “Oh honey, I know this is weird because I have wanted you to use the toilet and now I’m asking you to go in your pants.”
Ok seriously, I was talking to this girl like she could understand this rationalization…she blinked…and started to get hysterical. I was screaming to Tom, “Pull over, pull over…” And he doesn’t. He insists on waiting till we can pull off on an exit…no idea what his strange refusal to just pull over…I think he’s afraid some boogie man is going to come out of the woods and get him…I seriously married a wimp. He won’t even eat a piece of fruit with a smidgen of mold on it…Can you believe that?
She was doing the “I need to go….” bathroom dance at the pool. I know everyone saw and knew what was up when I whispered to her, “Just go in the pool…” I figured we wouldn’t be able to make it to the public restroom. “Oh Tom, never mind, she doesn’t have to go after all,” I bellowed loudly enough for people to hear after I stood up, hoping no one would notice the pee running down her leg as I urged her to hop back in the pool.
Nothing says vacation like a Golden Shower
We were walking back from the beach. She had to go. “Oh crappolla, ” I thought…we are never going to make it…a sense of panic started to spread through me…I picked her up, and took off.
Ahhh, we have to get to the bathroom…come on Jill, run faster, ignore the searing pain of her shoes digging a hole on my skin, block out the weariness from holding beach bags, a child, beach equipment, sand sticking on my body, sun burned, and parched…just run, just go…I was sprinting at this point and we. were. almost. there…the bathroom was in my vision…and then I felt a warm sensation spread all over me…we didn’t make it.
When your only 2 years old, many experiences are brand new, eye opening adventures…even the disgusting porta potty can be an interesting experience…
Terror – imagine having just learned to use the potty – a safe, unthreatening pink princess potty or a friendly red Elmo potty and then having to sit on this unfamiliar seat that rests over a very deep drop filled with …which leads me to the next point.
“Mommy, look at all of that poop!” she exclaimed as she stared incredulously into the deep abyss of disgustingness…Ugh, I almost just gagged thinking about that.
And then there was the awful smell, “Mommy, mommy, what’s that smell?”
She probably never smelled something so bad in all of her 34 months…because in my house, “Our shit don’t stink.” Ok, it might, but I just wanted to throw in that expression…
I will never forget the first time I heard that. I was at a friend’s parents party in southern Virginia (I went to college in Virginia) and there were all of these southern ladies talking and this one lady, in her deep southern drawl was like, “I don’t know who she thinks she is, she thinks her shit don’t stink .” I tell ya…Women are the worst with the cattiness! Never ends.
One of the wonderful parts of vacation is NOT COOKING…oh boy, this one is high on my list, as I don’t really enjoy cooking very much…and I certainly don’t miss bending down every three minutes to pick up crumbs and rice off the floor, wipe up spills from pouring water experiments, and constantly telling my child to finish her food before running over to play with a random toy she spies while stuffing her face full of chicken. Arianna is so easily distracted. She would see a scrap of paper on the floor, run over, pick it up, and say that she just found her spaceship. Wild imagination too…
This brings me back to vacation dining out…normally a relaxing, well, somewhat relaxing dinner out, even if it is for the five minutes you get to scarf down your food before your little one is done with her half of a chicken tender – they never seem to eat at restaurants…too busy staring at other patrons, crawling under the table, dumping the salt and pepper shakers, and trying to start a band with the banging of the utensils…ok so maybe eating at restaurants with kids is never relaxing…but that fact, coupled with my need to ask every three minutes, “Do you have to go to the potty?” Obsessively looking in the direction of the restroom so I know where to run, the constant peering at my child to determine if she does indeed have to go, and yes, it’s true, feeling her up- constant checking to see if her underwear is wet – I almost said panties….ew! There’s something so creepy about that word…but in any case, a freshly potty trained gal sitting in her booth at the Lobster House simply does not make for a kick back, rest on your laurels, sip your martini, type of night out. Oh well, at least I actually got a martini! And it was awesome! It was down and dirty, with three blue cheese stuffed olives – delish!
So there you have it – five reasons not to potty train before a vacation!
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