Sunday, March 11, 2012

My Reign as The Poo Poo Fairy

I was convinced my three year old was going to crap her pants forever. She and I laid in the backyard watching the clouds. She stands up and leans over me, “Mama, change my diaper.” This is never going to end. Now I know, most parents have this thought when they’ve started potty training. I know this is not unusual to believe this. But let me be clear, I was certain it was true. Positive. She was the exception to the rule.
 She was going to crap her pants forever.
 Well, dating is a worry I’ll probably never have. I’ll have to figure out how to explain to her college roommates why there was a box of Depends in the bathroom…. I’ll have to learn how to sew so I can design her clothing to make it more diaper friendly. All do-able. And diapers bags are so cool now; she’ll always have a great bag. I had made peace with it.
 But unfortunately the preschool parent handbook wasn’t with me.  
Chapter Five Sub-section B
Toilet trained policy: All Children must be toilet trained. They must be able to use toilet tissue by themselves and wash their hands thereafter. DIAPERS OR PULLS UP ARE NOT PERMITTED. If a child experience frequent accidents it will result in 
 “Love Monster is going to be expelled from preschool,” was all I can think. They have to be able to wipe themselves and wash their hands by themselves too?? That’s a whole other level of toilet trained-ness! Do they get detention if they color outside the lines too? Her first day of school was approaching. I couldn’t go through everyday of picking her up at school peeking in the window and praying that she still had the same clothes I dropped her off in. I had to make this happen. 
 We tried everything. Poop and we’ll give you and M&M. Poop and we’ll give you a cookie. Poop and we’ll give you a DVD. Poop and we’ll give you any goddamn thing! And farting into the toilet doesn’t count!
 I repeatedly was told. “You can’t rush it. They will do it in their own time.” Yeah yeah. Tell that to our preschool principal and her excrement free facility.
 I made it into a game. Poop on the Cherrio. It’s fun! Try to aim!  Whatever. She had no interest at all. She would look at me like, “Poop on the Cheerio? Are you serious mom?”
 Then after talking to many moms I knew, I was told the secret.
 The Poo Poo fairy.
 I know it sounds silly.
 One morning I sat my three year old down and told her a story.
 “Once upon a time there was a little girl…” I started. And I told her the story of a little girl who pooped in the potty and the poo poo fairy would bring her a present. And she bought it. She not only bought it, but obsessed about it. When’s she coming? Will I meet her? Where will she leave my present? Can I talk to her on the phone? She tried pooping on the potty, but nothing happened.
  Every night after she was in bed she would come out. “I’m sure I have to go.” But nada.
 One day she ran up to me and said, “I did it mama!” And sure enough poop was in the potty, but then after examining the evidence (her hands and skid marked underwear) I realized that she took a dump in the pants and transferred the poop into the potty. 
  “Do I get present for trying?” she would ask sweetly. 
 “No way,” I replied (Gotta be hardcore).
  But I noticed a pattern. She would always hold her poop until nap-time. Inevitability, I’d open her door when nap-time ended and it would smell craptastic. She’d flash her best smile and say, “I need you to change my diaper.”
 “Why didn’t you tell me you had to go?” I whined.
 “I was sleeping,” She said matter-of-factly.
 Hmmmmm. Really? Something was up here.
 I told this to a friend of mine and I got a crazy suggestion. Insane I tell you.
 My friend told me… during nap-time. No diaper. No underwear. Nothing.
 No way! I imagined her room walls smeared with poop like a mental hospital’s extra crazy wing! So I went through a couple more weeks of… Nap. Crap. Nap. Crap. Nap. Crap. Ugh! My friend calmly told me again. I’m serious. Try it.
 I had run out of options. 
 “Fine. I’ll do it,” I said. “But I’m calling and bitching to you when I’m cleaning shit off the ceiling fan.  You will owe me. Big time.”
 Nap time commenced. My only protection was a beach towel I laid down in the bed. 
 “I am going to sleep with my booty?” She asked.
 “Yep, just your booty. This is like a… beach nap,” I said.
 “Cool. Do I need suntan lotion?”
 “Not on this beach,” I put her potty next to her bed and said, “if you have to go there’s the potty.”
 “Okay mama,” she said getting into bed bottomless. Right. Sure.
 I closed the door. I swear to god, not even five minutes later she opened the door and said mama, “I grew a tail in the potty!”
 And there it was. Gorgeous and wonderful in all it’s glory. She had pooped in the potty. I screamed and jumped up and down with her. When she got up from her nap, The Poo Poo Fairy had left her Toy Story Two, a Toy Story Two book and a monster truck. And a note that read: I am so proud of you! Keep it up!
 And she never turned back. Sure a couple accidents here and there, but not for long. Between the magic of The Poo Poo fairy and beach naps, my little Love Monster was potty-trained right in time for school. Sure, now during naps she will ration out her poo so she goes a few times to get more pieces of candy. But hey, it’s my kid. Of course she knows how to work the system.
 It’s a whole new world having a fully potty trained child. Now, instead of looking for shapes in clouds, she and I now find them in the toilet bowl. “Look mama! A dragon! A snake! A dinosaur…and it’s wearing a hat!” That’s right baby. I’m so proud of you. 
Top five things my daughter has told me while on the Potty
  1. “My gasser’s in there!” Then she looks. “Where is it? I don’t see it!”
  2. Mama, It’s right there. It’s at the door.
  3. Mama I don’t have to go. It went back home.
  4. It went down the slide!
  5. That poop looks like Smirker’s head! (Smirker is her little sister)

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