Potty Training Prayers

". . . Please help me, Lord. I'm doing everything I can. I'm getting up early; I'm watching him every second; I'm offering positive feedback and being patient. Help me keep being patient, and help me to know what to do because I really feel like I'm doing all a mother can do. And oh, please Lord, help him to . . . to catch on, and to have a desire to go poop in the potty. I'm exhausted, and I need Thy help. I know this may seem like a silly thing to pray for, but I know Thou answers even seemingly silly prayers and that Thou wants to help mothers. I need that help. I'm so thankful to know I'm not alone, Lord. Please help me remember that, and help me have faith that this prayer will be answered . . ."

Such has been my pleading the past few weeks in behalf of my two-year-old, and in behalf of me, as I have been attempting the all-too-wonderful task of potty training. I told myself this time would be different. After pulling my hair out three previous times with my other children, potty training my last child at the age of 18 months (my mother has always claimed her children were potty trained by this age and that this is the perfect potty-training age--she's wrong), I had decided to relax and wait until this child was ready to basically potty train himself.

So, eighteen months went by; then 21 months went by (the age I trained two of my four children), and then my baby turned two, and the vision of being completely done potty-training for my lifetime started forcing its way forward, and by golly, two weeks after his second birthday, I decided to go for it. After all, I told myself, I did wait longer than I had with the other three children. It's now been five weeks since I began, and as always, I've had moments of complete and utter frustration and discouragement.

The process started out so smoothly I could hardly believe it. After only a day, Boston was peeing in the potty and staying dry for hours at a time. "Ha! This going to be a breeze," I told myself. Famous last words. He did fantastic for a week and a half, even pooping in the potty a few times. And then I did something stupid--I went on an 8-hour trip across the state of Wyoming to visit my brother in Denver. Boston was dry the entire time, but holding it that long made him constipated, and ever since then, the pooping only occurred in his pants--or on the floor--not in the potty. Is there anything worse than cleaning up poop every day? Probably, but right now I can't think of what.

I finally decided I needed some serious advice, and so I began importuning the Lord for help, for inspiration, for DIVINE INTERVENTION. I told my children and husband that this was a family endeavor and I expected them to pray for Boston, too. Even Boston himself had caught on to the act and was praying, "bess go poop in potty." I offered treats to anyone who got him to do the act, and I tried EVERYTHING I could think of to get that little boy to sit on the potty to relieve himself. Then, I started getting really frustrated because it seemed like my prayers were not being answered. Not only was he not making progress but I wasn't feeling inspired either. All that was happening is that I was beginning to lose patience and sleep over the whole matter.

That's when I decided I had to let go a little. I stopped following Boston around all day, making sure he wasn't hiding in a corner pooping his pants, and I put more of the responsibility on him. I told him the consequences of pooping in the potty (some pop and playtime with Mommy) and I told him the consequences of pooping in his pants (sitting on a chair for 10 minutes). I really doubt he fully understood what I was saying, but it somehow made me feel some weight lifted off my shoulders. Then, it occurred to me that I should start paying attention to his behavior right before he pooped so I could work hard with him at that moment, rather than nagging the poor kid all day long. Lo and behold, the child is starting to poop in the potty.

Now, he still needs more practice before I can stop thinking about it throughout the day, but what I found (once again) is that my potty training prayers really were answered. It was so simple I almost overlooked it. I was doing everything to get him to poop in the potty; instead, I needed to put more responsibility on him. And I'm so grateful for the thought that popped into my head to concentrate hard at certain moments of the day.

So simple, so unprofound, so motherhood.

All I can say is I'm thankful for answers to prayers, even the "pooping on the potty" prayers!