Potty Training is No Picnic: Part 2

Urinary tract infections aren't pleasant and as an adult when you get one, you know. This is not so when you are a 2 year old just learning how to use the potty. When you are a 2 year old just learning how to use the potty you are constantly announcing your bathroom visits to your parents. You're giving them constant updates about your, well, let's just call her Gina (pronounced Geena). Gina normally doesn't have any problems, but then halfway into the training process you start telling your parents that Gina hurts. The incessant updates begin to make your parents wonder if maybe there really is something wrong, but how to check and know that there is an issue? If your mother is Tawnie Wong, you Google it. And this is where I found out that potty training may make you act like an insane person, but suspecting that your daughter has a U.T.I truly makes you a lunatic of a person.

I have done things that I never thought I would ever have---or would ever---want to do all because I am now a mother and it all began with Googling Toddler U.T.Is. Thank the Lord I decided to opt out on looking at the picture portions of my "research". I am ashamed to admit that I followed Google's advice and promptly began taking at home urine samples, inspecting that urine and even, yes it's true, getting up close and personal with Lennon's friend Gina (and it is here that you should be glad I am not providing too much detail). After all my efforts all signs pointed to something being amiss with poor little Gina. Finally I could warrant calling the doctor (God forbid that I actually listen to my intuition and do that to begin with).

Of course our pediatrician wanted to see us right away and I promptly got an appointment. Being the "always be prepared" type mother that I am I of course had a few questions to get answered prior to our appointment. Would Lennon need to give the Doctor a fresh urine sample? Yes. So keep her extremely hydrated. Would the doctor be extracting this sample via a catheter? No. Not unless Lennon could not give one in the course of our appointment, and since she is doing so well potty training this shouldn't be a problem. Riiiiight.....

I am very blessed to have a daughter who loves going to the doctor. This could be because she has a hypochondriac for a mother, but I choose to think it's because she has an inkling to be in a medical profession (preferably a high paid, highly recommended and highly lauded surgeon). So getting Lennon to the doctor is never ever an issue. She loves showing off at the doctor's office to all the receptionists, nurses and pediatricians. She loves asking questions about the medical tools. She is even a fabulous listener and follows all the doctor's and nurse's directions. This day, however, was not just any other day.

Lennon refused to follow any of my or the doctor's directions. She flipped her lid at every tool the doctor brought out and cried bloody murder if it came so much as a foot away from her. No sticker and no treat could pry my kid's will. Then came the request for a urine sample. Well, to cut to the chase--after almost 25 minutes of clawing, scratching, wiggling and screaming in the bathroom and generally refusing to let her pee go, as my hand searched for just one drop of pee to put in the cup, she pees (and probably out of sheer terror since I hit a new low and began threatening her). Where does the small bit of pee she was willing to let go end up going? Down my arm. As I tried to pool some of this "sample" into the sterilized cup this was the one and only time I ever wished to have a son. The two of us then left the restroom covered in three major bodily fluids: tears, sweat and urine (I brought most of the urine).

As we broke free from our toileted prison I got "the look" from all the nurses. You know "the look". It's a look of dogged pity and harsh criticism combined. Pity for Lennon and criticism for me. Poor Sweet Lennon on the one hand, and Evil Pee Extractor Lady on the other. Then the cherry on top of this shitty sundae: Lennon did not provide ENOUGH pee to test. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! So, what do they ask me to do? I must stay and coax the pee out of her for as long as it takes. Uh-uh, no way, no how. Catheter? Nope, that may make the situation worse by traumatizing her more. So now my punishment for my past deeds is to lock myself in a bathroom with my toddler and make her pee into a cup, providing she give enough pee to put in said cup. Where's Daddy when you really need him??

Thank the Lord there was one light at the end of this tunnel: Grandma Sweet's house. Grandma Sweet's house is right around the way from our pediatrician's office and of course Lennon loves, loves, loves, Grandma Sweet's house. It's a house full of fun, constant attention and treats. The perfect place to potty. I was able to convince the staff to give me a pee package to go: 1 sterile swab, 1 sterilized cup complete with Lennon's name on the label and 1 bio-hazard bag. We are allowed to go to Grandma's, a relaxing and pleasant environment, package in hand and collect Lennon's sample there.

It only took about a half hour of Uncle Cody (age 6) to make Lennon laugh, Grandma supplying a constant supply of drinking water/bribes and my hand crushed beneath Lennon's rear and in a toilet to collect a full and adequate sample. A sample which I quickly ran to back to the office, only to be re-routed to the Hospital's Lab. With all the money we pay for insurance and money given directly to the pediatrician's office, I had to deliver the sample to the lab myself. Oh motherhood! How I love thee!

Now the really funny thing about this story is that Lennon's lab results were inconclusive. She had a higher level of abnormal cells in her urine, which COULD indicate an infection but not such a high level of abnormal cells that indicate a full infection. You may be asking yourselves, so what does that mean? Well my friends, that means I had to experience this all over again!

Two year olds are twice the fun!

Potty Training Is No Picnic!: Part 1

Yesterday was the official start date of potty training Lennon and my-oh-my was it a loooong day. Thank goodness Josh and I were both home to kick it off because having another set of hands was essential.

I suppose I am self inflicting this torture all other parents and child rearing experts call "Potty Training". I mean it's not like Lennon can't still wear diapers, they're somewhat fashionable and they'd keep the boys away at 16, right? I am just so ready to stop spending money on the damn things and I wonder if I completely lost my mind. Yes, I have succumbed to some pressure from the peanut gallery. Everyone has an opinion of course, and if Lennon ever wants to attend preschool the diapers need to be dumped. But there has to be an easier way to go about potty training without feeling like a complete crazy, hermit-like woman covered in pee, poo, stickers and M&Ms.

You hear about girls being easy to potty train (apparently I was one of these girls), but honestly I don't think that's the case. At least it isn't the case with our delightfully head strong, independent daughter. No amount of pretty panties and treats will coerce her into thinking that her diapers aren't the bees knees. She would prefer to "go" in them and sit in it; she'd prefer to layer her panties over her diapers, and since she is a younger toddler the concept of getting fantastic cash and prizes or the privilege of going to preschool is way over her head. Or is it? I swear she is just too smart for any kind of cajoling and she secretly knows that I am desperate for her to be out of diapers so she chooses to wet and shit herself on purpose just to spite me. I mean sheesh! What kinda lady is she?! A girl not into pretty panties? Apparently I have not set a good example of how lovely it is to wear pretty and fresh lingerie. Note to self: Start wearing my underwear around the house more often.

After much discussion and reading of potty training materials Josh and I decided that for the first week of Official Potty Training we (and I use the word we very loosely since I am obviously the one who is home more) would aggressively potty train and stay home for a week, letting Lennon be naked so that she could get used to and understand her "potty signals". I was all gung-ho with this plan---that is until two days in. By Tuesday I was seriously considering my sanity and wondering if I would have to booze it up for the majority of my days just to get through potty training. Yes, it was much easier for Lennon to understand her signals while being naked and that actually worked better than letting her roam around the house in panties, which she treated just like a diaper anyway. The hiccup however is never leaving your home. The farthest Lennon and I ventured was to the porch to collect the mail. I suppose if we had a bigger house I wouldn't have felt this cabin fever until later in the week, but seeing as how we have a house of smaller size I lost it by mid-week. It took talking with my girlfriend over once gargantuan margarita to decide that this method may have been working for Lennon, but that it was not working for me and that now was the perfect time for me to be selfish. By the end of the week I nixed the no going out of the house plan and decided to ease up and try and take a more relaxing approach to potty training. I tried to go with the flow, I handled each challenge one by one and I invested in a lot of M&Ms, hand soap, Clorox wipes and laundry detergent (I should have really invested in a washer woman since poo and panties really do not mix).

All in all I have to say that I am sure the beginning of our potty training could have gone a lot worse, at least that's what I am continuing to telling myself. It only took Lennon a week to start going to the potty without Josh and I having to constantly remind her, but then of course karma/God/the-powers-that-be chose to rear their ugly heads and put me in my place for getting all excited about our progress. Da-da-da-daaaa!: The UTI scare.