“Daddy! I want Privacy!” (actually, what I heard was “Pwie-Vuh-See”)
(Be enthusiastic Brooks, be encouraging. Use your high pitched voice. You can do this!)
“Okay. First, you don’t know what privacy is, you just recognize that privacy happens behind closed doors (actually, I suppose you do know what privacy is after all). Second, the last time I decided to ‘grant’ you a bit of privacy, I ended up re-rolling 2/3 of a roll of Toilet Paper.”
Awkward silence passes before she tries a different route, “Daddy, I done.”
“Really? Did you poop? Did you pee?”
“No. I just done.”
“Thirty more seconds Hun! You can stay there for thirty more seconds!” By now my voice is hitting the Alto range
Perhaps she can try another demand, but this time with more force, “Daddy! Leave. Me. Alone!”
“You’re done?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay then, get down.” Here’s the part that makes me chuckle—she can’t. Her naked little butt grips the toilet seat too much. I watch her struggle in about three maybe four different ways. “Need help Sweetie?”
“Yes. I need help.”
“There you go.” I placed her back on the floor and flipped open the foot stool.

Boy, I sure enjoy potty training! I just freakin’ Love it so much! (Stop worrying about me, I always have a slightly feral look in my eyes, I’ve always had this nervous tic).
Before I decided it was time to open this can of worms, I decided to consult my memory banks. Okay brain…go back to those days with Lyd, what did you do? Ah yes! All sorts of things I won’t be doing this time!
First mistake with Lyd, I forced it. I admit it, I succumbed to peer pressure. All these other parents had their kids potty trained and ours was the only kid in the entire world who was still in diapers at her age, We need to do this NOW!
Second mistake, I was inconsistent. Some days were busier than others, some days she never even got near the potty. Other days I was placing her on it four to five times a day.
Third mistake I made was that I did a poor job of hiding my frustration. I’m guessing my mood probably made her a little nervous about the potty.
It was a bad experience for everyone involved, and I’m guessing the long term effects will end with Lyd writing some sort of a Joan Crawford book about me being a frenzied lunatic who smelled a little like poo.
The next mistake is one I’d rather call a sub-mistake, we bought one of those kid-sized plastic potty chairs. Here’s why I would say you should not get one of these: First, you find yourself holding a plastic cup with a turd in it. You need to dump it down the toilet and wash the cup out—pretty much twice the work of just letting her go in the toilet. Second, the potty chair can go anywhere, and sometimes Lyd requested a little TV time while sitting on it. After a while, she didn’t want to go potty unless the TV was on. (dang, I should have seen that one coming). Third. Great! She is consistently going in her little potty! And now…you need to retrain her again to use the real potty.
Finally, here’s a little potty training myth, potty training might be a milestone for the kid, but it’s only the start for the parents. The parent is in no way shape or form off of any hooks! The parent can now look forward to a solid four to six years of your kid “assuming the position” while you wipe them down.
Now that I have been able to reflect upon the trauma of what happened last time. I know what I will do. I will stop caring about when other parents have their kids potty trained. Reggie will potty train when she’s ready. I’ll be doing this every morning and I will be doing this after lunch, daily. I will be cheerful! I’ll smile, I’ll use my higher pitched voice! I’ll grit my teeth when she drops a deuce in the middle of the floor.
It ought to be a cinch this time around! I mean, Reggie doesn’t like being dirty down there. She does not like wearing diapers and she is fascinated with watching Annie and Lyd use the potty. All the pieces are there to make this run smoothly! Right?
Oh…wait. She is also impatient. This is the same little girl who wants to read, and becomes furious when I try to teach her the alphabet, as if the alphabet has nothing to do with reading. She just wants to go in the potty without learning “how” to go in the potty.
Two minutes of me talking with my higher-pitched voice, encouraging her, talking about how Lyd the big sister goes in the potty, about how she too can wear panties like Lyd. What makes this even more tiring, is the last minute of that two-minute time period involved me (still with my high pitched enthusiastic voice) urging her to stay seated at the potty.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I flipped open the foot stool…
“What do we do now Reggie?”
“Wash hands.”
“Good!” She gets her hands all soaped up and proceeds to mimic me, palms together, wash the top of the hand, wash the top of the other hand…interlace the fingers, Rinse. Now…turn the water off before she starts playing with the water. “Here’s the towel…”
“Thanks” she says as she dries off her hands. Just as I reach out to accept the towel back, she puts the towel down between her legs, and begins running it up and down her butt crack. She shoves the towel back into my hand and walks away. “I go play now.” as I watch her little peach-like butt cheeks disappear around the corner.
I stared at the towel, still getting past what I just saw. Wondering if she does this every time…
This Potty Training thing is going to take a while.