What’s Boring? Oh, School

“I want to do exciting things, for ever and ever and ever,” Seb said one summer’s eve, as we were preparing to complete his nightly check list. This proclamation followed, “But I don’t want to do boring things” like the items on his check list, which include taking a bath, brushing teeth, story time, and sleep. “Taking a bath is boring,” Seb said.

“Then either you take a boring bath, where you sit in a tub of lukewarm water up to your elbows, or you can take an exciting bath,” I said, as I turned on the shower head and hot water rained down into the empty tub. “An exciting bath is like a rainstorm, where you are taking a bath in the midst of a jungle, a rain forest. Seb, step into your own, personal rainstorm!”

Home is our platform for concocting and carrying out exciting activities. Once we organized the house, we were able to focus on weeding out the boring things from our everyday lives.

Now that Seb is differentiating between boring activities and exciting ones, to help us make the best use of available time, Seb and I are compiling lists of exciting things and boring things. We limit boring things to a simple necessity, and we create a schedule rock chalk full of exciting things.

A few boring things:

• Watching grown-up channels on TV,
• Brushing teeth,
• School,
• Playing inside,
• Time outs,
• Sleep.

Several exciting things:

• Going to the YMCA Kidzone,
• Playing Outside,
• Watching Cartoons on PBSKids.Org,
• Free Play at My Gym,
• Belmont Park, and
• Rainstorm Bath.

Across the street from our house, a park, a frequent destination of our many excursions.

The most exciting thing for us is exploring the canyon wilderness, home to bird, rabbit, lizard, snake and coyote. We have seen them all. Because our house is situated on the canyon ridge, trekking through it has proven to be very accessible. To reach the canyon, we walk out our front door, down the steps, across the street and around the park to the canyon trailhead. The way into the canyon can be a very invigorating gallop down a steep trail to a ravine, where a fork in the road leads us to our first important decision: shall we venture through the tunnel of trees or into the fur ball forest?

Seb directs my attention into the canyon, as we preview today’s pathway. Today’s trip logged a duration of about an hour and a half.

The canyon is like a beginner’s training course for future large scale hikes. We can complete a trek in less than 30 minutes in an evening, or we can hike for a couple of hours on a weekend. In the canyon, we walk along rolling foot paths or jog up short, steep foot hills. One trail leads across a stream and demands its followers to bound over rocks and across precarious concrete balance beams. Another path dead ends in a scramble of bramble thorns and thistle. And another bounds over a puddle environment for scattering pollywogs. Along the way are places to stop and catch our breaths while snacking on food items, like apples and granola bars.

Seb stands at the canyon trailhead at the edge of the park. Though we know many ways into the canyon, we established this as our favored starting point.

On one afternoon hike, Seb told me to wait down at the bottom of the ravine, that he was going to climb up one of the hills by himself. I stood down there and watched, as Seb climbed up the hill. He made it up the hill pretty well, but near the top, I noticed he was struggling. He would climb straight up the hill a short way and then slide down again. He did this several times and started yelling to me for help. His yells transformed into cries. He cried for five minutes before I climbed up to reach him and then directed him to the side of the hill for an easier way up, and he reached the top on his own. Once he made the adjustment, it was an easy trial. Since that day, during every trip through the canyon, Seb commands a moment for a similar hill-climbing exercise.

While we are shuffling down steep dirt trails and across rocky paths, I am envisioning a time when we will be together on the other side of the world. In Nepal, home of the highest peaks on earth. There we will hike through and over the Himalayas with our friends from Dang and Deukari Valleys and into the welcoming gardens surrounding the Village of Shakuma. Traveling together through Nepal would be the pinnacle of our achievement, but we know that to get into real shape, we will need to tackle depths more than a hundred times those of our neighborhood canyon. I mean, seriously, where we will go, girls Seb’s age run down and up ten canyons every morning just to fetch a couple buckets of water.

Seb walks up ahead adjacent to the Home Depot Canyon. This canyon was named for Home Depot, which was built on an adjacent ridge.

Have you ever been to a Potty Party?

Elia and I like to have fun, too, but a Potty Party is about as fun as it sounds. Yes, you are right to be curious about what a Potty Party is, but first what a Potty Party is not. A Potty Party is not one of those morning-after-beer-before-liquor rituals. Nor is it an odd, risque fetish. And it is also not a game played by contestants wearing adult diapers. In fact, a Potty Party is actually an effective toilet training technique for troublesome toddlers who refuse to do the deed standing proper before the throne with the lid up–if your toddler happens to be a boy, that is.

My childless friends, now you may return to your upper tier, kick back and, with your perma-smiles, enjoy the comfort of your abode and all of its unbroken furniture. Your stream-lined adventures shall continue toward an ever unfolding rainbow-colored horizon, while we parents bear our toilet-training burden before the dull, grey backdrop on the inside of a damp, public restroom stall.

We enjoy a sunset respite in Carlsbad as we prepare for next weekend's Potty Party.

On Holding It

New parents, we understand if you’re at your wits’ end with potty training, especially if your son or daughter is a holder. Pee-pee cannot be squeezed out of holders. They can and will hold their pee-pee, no matter how much discomfort it causes them and everyone else involved, until it’s time to take a bath. As parents of a holder, potty training has been one of the hardest tasks of our parenting experience.

When our son turned four, he refused to take typical developmental potty-training steps. Instead, he preferred going in the bath tub. While on errands with Elia, though he filled up on bottles of water and sucked juice boxes dry, he would not empty himself into a public toilet. Elia utilized the tub technique just so he could continue his day without bursting. During scheduled stops by the house, Elia dunked him in the tub, where he could decompress.

After a few months of this, we decided on a new tact in potty training. This effort was exhausting, different from any that we know are typical of potty training exercises, like, for example, using Cheerio and candy rewards, floating toilet targets, special prize incentives, and plain, old-fashioned guilt-tripping. Once we had tried and failed with all of these motivational tactics, we understood that extreme actions would be necessary.

Seb is lucky to have his own bathroom, where he could start out peeing almost anywhere without regard to anyone. To potty train him, we set a simple goal for him to relieve himself in there, approximately 75-25 potty in the bowl. We set off on helping him accomplish this goal by scheduling a Saturday morning “Potty Party” (also known as a bathroom lock-in).

What is a Potty Party?

A Potty Party is a party to celebrate a kind of toilet christening. It takes place entirely within the bathroom. For Seb’s Potty Party, Elia went completely over-the-top and decorated the bathroom with $0.99 store streamers and decorations. We set up a play table in the bathroom with tiny chairs, and had a cupcake ready with an unlit candle for the moment the pee-pee hit the bowl. Then, Saturday morning, we began the celebration.

Do a Little Dance

Elia and I alternated, staying with Seb and pointing him to the toilet. All day on Saturday, sitting on tiny chairs in the bathroom, on our knees hard against the smelly tile, speaking softly, then yelling, then using the silent treatment, then nothing. Seb was there with us, acknowledged our deep concern, but refused to go. And, you know, during this time, Seb was not simply saying quietly, “I don’t want to.” He was dancing, screaming, crying tears, pointing us out the door and making it very difficult for his parents. And, alas, ten hours later, Seb relieved himself in the tub.

Still, we stuck to the goal. The next day, same effort, much less enthusiasm, Elia and I skipped comforting Sunday activities and devoted it to potty training. Again, we alternated, for twelve hours, taking short breaks for food and water, waiting for him to go, but Seb would not. Elia and I, heartier and with more stamina, were relentless. We were determined to wear him down. As far as we were concerned, Seb did not need a bath tonight.

Eventually, after nursing a liter of water, he really had to go, and we wore him out. Seb finally tired of holding. Standing before the toilet, he let out a little tinkle. At that moment, we cheered and, of course, acted as if he was finally doing it. The drama intensified, and little by little, he did it. From that day, with continuing support, he would go in his toilet. Along with that, we tried to reinforce his habit by giving him a preferred toy every time. And so we enjoyed our success for the next few months.

Seb catches his breath for his next potty dance.

The Hangover

It had been about five months since that tough weekend. Seb went in his designated bowl, but nowhere else. Elia and I discussed Seb’s progress, and our shared concern prompted us to re-double our efforts to help our son go pee-pee in a different potty. Since we also have a guest bathroom in our place, this served as the different potty. One weekend, through four hours straight of tears, gentle encouragement, restrained anger, frustration, and staying with him in the bathroom, he held it. Elia gave up after just an hour, and then I took over. Torture, interrogation, pain, water boarding, were all images that came to mind as I sat on a tiny chair nearby waiting. And there went a cherished day of rest.

After a prolonged silent treatment and hours of painful holding, he finally let out a tiny squirt. He pointed to some drops on the rim and tried to convince me that he had done it. I encouraged him to go ahead and let it all out, and little by little, he did. Later that weekend, he made his fifth trip to the different toilet and eventually championed the bowls of public restrooms in Target and Toys R Us, letting it out little by little. In one final push, we taught him to let it all out in a single flowing stream. He eventually conquered toilet in the public Kindergarten.

Seb anxiously awaits his chance to exit the kiddie bathroom.

Celebrate and Give Thanks

We are grateful that the bathroom potty party lock-in worked for Seb. Each child has a different story, of course, but our opinion is that the longer you wait with a holder, the harder it gets to potty train. Nonetheless, our short journey to the end of this final episode was really nothing to look forward to undertaking.