Caution: Parenting Talk about Pee and Poop to Follow
A couple of weeks ago, my wife and I decided it that, at a 2.5 years old, it was time introduce this whole “bathroom” situation to OzMan. It’s not like he’s ever walked up to us and said, “Hey, mamas, I’d really like to try pooping in something that wasn’t my pants”, but what does he know? He’s 2. And a half.
Amelia went all out and bought him PJ Masks underpants, Thomas the Tank Engine Pull Ups, a book of 500 stickers, candy for the off chance that something might actually happen and a pack of construction vehicles for when things really start happening. She went to the library and checked out a couple of DVDs and books to get this whole family on board with this potty training business. Gung-ho, I’m telling you.
One of these books is called How to Pee: Potty Training for Boys. It looks like this:
It’s written by an M.D., so I’m sure there’s some sort of validity with that, right? I mean, it looks like peeing in the toilet can be SO FUN.
But here’s the thing, I don’t want my kid to learn how to pee in the toilet with these step-by-step instructions. I used to have to clean the men’s bathroom when I worked at Taco Bell and I know what it’s like to have to clean up after grown men that were probably pretending they were cowboys screaming “PEE-HAW YEE-HAW” after they’d eaten their Nacho BellGrande 12 minutes before the restaurant closed.
The book goes through a handful of examples of how little boys can use the bathroom like a cowboy or a movie star. The one that gave me the biggest gag factor was the section with four steps that involved the little boy carving out a riverbed down a hill with a stick and then peeing all the way down it. No, any son of mine. Just no.
There was a section called “Mommy Style”, which involved the little boy sitting on the toilet while wearing a pink floppy hat and being served toilet paper by a butler. I’m still trying to figure out why a butler doesn’t bring me my toilet paper and a tiny bit annoyed that now my kid thinks he’s “peeing like a mama” when he sits on the toilet. But, it’s cool. I parented my way out of that one.
The review of the 2.5 year old goes like this:
Me: Dude, do you like this book?
Oz: Um… potty.
Me: What’s your favorite page?
Oz: *Would rather watch a Property Brothers rerun than continue this conversation”
I’m kind of burnt out on Property Brothers, but they weird me out less than looking at the streams of pee coming from this little hand drawn boy pretending to be a super hero. The concept of it is adorable – the guy’s son liked to role play (?) and use all these different props when he pees, so he wrote a book about it. It sucks being an adult, because if I tried to take in a rope and some spurs to the bathroom at work, I’m pretty sure the book someone would write about me would not be found in your local library’s children’s section.
We got the book on Wednesday. We’ve read it a handful of times. He has not found it inspiring and would rather read Digger, Dozer, Dumper over and over instead. It’s on to the next awkwardly written and illustrated potty training book for us.