Raise the roof high, ballerinas · Posted Jan 22, 10:36 AM by Todd Babiak
My daughter just turned two. She speaks in full sentences. When she looks in the mirror, she sometimes demands that I brush her hair. All of this seems to contradict her relationship with the potty. She understands the potty. When she plays with her dollhouse, she sometimes puts Jim and Connie, her finger puppets, on the wooden toilet. “Jim is pooping,” she’ll say.
Of course, I seize opportunities like these as “teaching moments.”
Yes, I tell her, Jim poops on the potty and so does Connie. My daughter admires ballerinas, so I often tell her there’s nothing a ballerina likes to do quite as much as poop on the potty. As I write this, my daughter is commanding her jack-o-lantern toy to poop on the potty.
Yet she despises the actual potty. I’ve been trying to put her on it, when I sense gastro-intestinal activity upon her visage. I put her on the potty and she asks me to read a book. I do. She asks for another book, and another. And then, inevitably, she’ll say, “All done!” There’s nothing in the potty, but I praise her for trying. I put her diaper back on and she fills it immediately.
Last week, I put her on the potty and left her there while I put out the recycling. She had one of those books with panels, revealing cartoons in various states of happiness. One thing my daughter likes to do is say, “What’s that thing?” She uses it for animals, for people, for household items, and exotic foodstuffs.
So when I heard her say, “What’s that thing?” from afar, I assumed she had discovered an antelope or a narwhal in the book. I went into the bathroom, to educate her, and there she was, standing up, pointing at a coiler in the potty.
“What’s that thing?”
“That’s poop!”
“Poop!”
“You did it! You did it!”
“I pooped!”
I cheered, and danced around. She danced with me. Some time ago, I taught her to “raise the roof.” She raised it. And I was stricken by self-awareness. There I was, dancing and huzza-ing and clapping around a piece of shit.
My daughter hasn’t given me an opportunity to do it again. If any ballerinas want to come over and give her a demonstration, it would be much appreciated.
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Hey, Todd – consider her own little unit. We found that our little girl hated being up so high on the cold white throne, but responded much better to one her size. She could keep her feet on the ground, and even use it on the longer car trips. Don’t get one that plays music for “success” or you’ll freak her out. Remember, though – when you make the change, you’ll be forced to either hold her on public restroom seats or carry that fold-down seat re-sizer for the foreseeable future. It ain’t all glamour and photo-ops. Have fun.
— Christopher Jan 22, 12:13 PM #
We’ve had no joy since the poo at Christmas—and it isn’t for lack of praise.
No! Is not go potty. No thank you. No!
Sometimes I fear he will be denied admission to the better schools.
— Ronnie Jan 29, 11:07 PM #
Hey, I danced and clapped for years, trying to get my youngest toilet trained.
As a nurse and a mother, I think poop in toilets is highly underrated. Poop in an actual toilet bowl is a wonderful thing.
— deb Feb 2, 11:44 PM #