See, I have a four year old who is indeed potty trained. She knows what the potty is for. She knows how to sit on it. She has even been trained like Pavlov's dog to expect an M&M on occasion for using it. But this four year old of mine has a mind of her own. Much to my chagrin.
The problem seems to be that she refuses to stop playing and use the aforementioned potty. Nope, she just plays like it's no body's business and at the last possible minute, when she can hold it for only about two more seconds, she freezes. Trying to desperately figure out how to make it the 25 feet to a bathroom, any bathroom, and potty. I've seen her face on a few of these occasions. I'm the one screaming, "Well, run! Don't just stand there and make a big flippin mess!"
It is, of course, too late at that point. So I have a child who is either wet or poopy and knows her momma is going to be none too happy about it. At that point what is the best thing to do? Well, try and cover it up of course.
I have found wet and soiled clothes in the hamper and tucked away under a rug. I have found an entire container of baby wipes shoved down the toilet after the effort to clean up has been made. I have soaked more panties so they could be washed more times than I care to count.
We have gone around and around and around on this issue. I've been mad, madder and furious. She's shed tears....and promptly returned to her normal gleeful self 30 seconds later. And nothing changes.
Just today we had to detour on our way to ballet to change clothes after school. Then while at ballet she knew it was coming and just tried to hold it back. Only somewhat successful. So there I sat in the pinkest of all bathrooms telling her we would sit there all night until she had a complete poo. "But I can't go!" she insisted. "Well, then, PUSH.IT.OUT because I'm not leaving until you do."
A mere five minutes later, I saw her looking at me with big eyes perfectly still by the pre-K toys in the lobby. "Reese, do you need to go now?"
"Reese get over here right now." And she ran at me at lightning speed. Naturally two girls were locked in the bathroom changing. My only course of action was to start pleading with God.
"PLEASE let them hurry. All I've done for the past two hours is be mad at her for not going on the potty and now she needs to go and we can't. Puh-leeeeeese!" The door opened and I shooed those girls out of there so fast. I just told them if we didn't get in, Reese might poop all over their precious new ballet floor. Hey, it was entirely possible.
So, we made it. Her pipes are clean until tomorrow. Two pairs of panties are soaking in the laundry room, and I am again calm. One day she will have one of her own. (at least) That child will have a mind of his or her own.....and every Christmas I am certain this grandmother will give underwear as a gift, while smiling knowingly at my beautiful daughter. Because I have been there and will understand.
My mother in law has a sign hanging in her kitchen that reads, "Grandchildren are God's gift for not killing your kids." I'm starting to believe there is some truth to that.