Posted by: Jamie Stamm | August 21, 2009

Am I an overconfident mom?

What a difference four weeks makes! Less than a month after Anthony shocked me – and himself – by peeing in the potty for the first time, I’m daring to say that my son is fully potty-trained. He hasn’t had an accident in nearly two weeks, and that includes shopping trips, dinners out, nursery time at the Y and several days worth of carpools. We’ve retired the pull-ups, even at night. And – unless he has to poop – Ant does everything by himself, from turning on the bathroom light to lifting the seat, peeing, flushing and washing his hands. Frankly, I’m stunned.

All of this may have led to a bit of overconfidence on my part. This afternoon, Ant and I met a friend for lunch (during which he used the potty twice) and then headed to a nearby dollar store to restock his prize box. As we picked through foam swords and puzzles and bubble wands and pirate hats, Anthony declared, “Mommy, I’ve got to poopy again.”

Doubting that the dollar store even had a bathroom, I went into frantic search mode. We finally found two restrooms in a back corner of the store, both bearing the dreaded words, “Please see cashier for key.” (A quick side note: This was a dollar store nestled between a spa and an upscale eatery in a pretty swanky shopping complex. I’m not sure why they felt it necessary to lock the bathroom doors, but whatever.)

So it was up to the front of the store, where the world’s slowest-moving cashier checked three registers for the keys before declaring she didn’t have them.

“Maybe one of them is unlocked,” she drawled.

I hadn’t tried to open the men’s room, so Ant and I sprinted back to the bathrooms, which both were locked. I knocked on the doors with no response, then grabbed Anthony and headed for the car, hoping to find a diaper or pull-up or something I could throw on him that he could poop in. Not the ideal situation, but it was all I could think of.

However, thanks to that overconfidence I mentioned earlier, there was nothing absorbent to be found.

“Can you hold it?” I asked.

Anthony grunted a quick “yes,” and we were off again, searching for the nearest fast-food restaurant or gas station.

“Are you still OK?” I asked again and again.

Ant continued to answer with grunts as he struggled to contain himself.

A few minutes later, I swung into a convenience store parking lot, grabbed Anthony from the backseat and made a beeline for the bathroom. I had his pants down and his butt situated on the potty in seconds.

Ant promptly farted, smiled up at me and declared, “OK, I’m done.”

And the first thing I did when we got home?

Restocked my purse with pull-ups, of course.

Not because I don’t have faith in my son. But because you never know when a dimwitted cashier won’t be able to find the bathroom key.

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Responses

  1. It will come to pass, eventually. Have confidence, faith, and a what-will be-will be attitude, my dear. Though boys are decidedly harder than girls, it’s Ant’s ultimate destiny to poop right…guaranteed!

  2. Gotta love that gas.

  3. A plastic grocery bag in a sand pail worked for us once.

  4. Hahaha! We had a “need to go poop” experience in the car the other day that sent us back home to the pot only to result in a little gas and the worlds teeniest terd that probably could have been held! Gotta love potty training boys!

  5. He’s just keeping you on your toes. We used a travel seat and a cinderblock for Bella earlier this summer. Whatever works!


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