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3 Days of Watching

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Shlomo is producing potential biohazards on our floor today.

(Note: This post is from yesterday.)

We are potty-training for real.  At least, we hope so.

Shlomo was interested in sitting on the toilet (with one of those little toilet seats over it), but then it wasn’t comfortable for him, because for his peepee to point into the toilet meant sitting with his legs tight together, and the little “cap” on his toilet seat hurt his peepee.  So we got him a potty chair.  First we put a bag into it, but he didn’t like that on his tush.  So now we put a bit of water into the bottom, so that it’s easier to dump the contents into the toilet.

But, he wasn’t thrilled with either one, and lost interest pretty fast.

Which was fine with me – I knew we were starting early.  And as long as he let me change his diapers, I wasn’t going to complain.

However, for the past two weeks or so, diaper-changing time has gotten increasingly difficult.  Shlomo doesn’t want me us to change it – even when it’s leaking – and he fights.

Last night, I was reorganizing Shlomo’s drawers, for the change of season and because Yitzchak’s mother just sent us a whole summer wardrobe and I had to fit those clothes and his other clothes into three little drawers.  We came to the training underwear that she’d bought six months ago for us.  Most of them hadn’t been worn yet.  I told Yitzchak that either we put them away, or we use them.

I had heard of the three-day potty training method, and it sounded better than six months of potty training.  I told Yitzchak to look it up.  Obviously, Yitzchak would find a problem with something no one thought of: There isn’t always grout between tiles in Israel.  And then poop would get stuck between them.

Since Yitzchak couldn’t find anything better, we are doing it anyways, tiles or not.

Yitzchak wanted to try it with underwear.  After two consecutive accidents within one hour, we quit that.

The accidents didn’t stop, though.  We had two consecutive pee accidents, plus a poop with the second pee, within fifteen minutes.  And then one spritz onto Shlomo’s plate of olives.

But, since then, we’ve been good.

A drop of poop and a pee in the “toilet”.

And a whole bunch on the floor.

We’re only on day 1.  If this doesn’t work, we’ve lost only three days.  If it does work, we’ve gained a few months.

The picture above is Shlomo wearing his new biohazard shirt.  I thought it was an appropriate shirt for a day of poop and pee accidents.

My Very Own Toilet

toddler toilet seat, toilet seat, kids toilet seat, soft toilet seat. padded toilet seat with handlesA couple months ago, we got a little toilet seat.  You know, one of the padded ones that you put on top of the big toilet.  Well, for the past two or three weeks, every time I go to the bathroom when Shlomo is awake, and yes, that means every time, he follows me in, takes his toilet seat, and asks to sit on the toilet.  Somehow, the idea that the toilet is occupied has not yet registered.  Yesterday, he tried to move me a bit, to expose a bit of the toilet, so he could put the seat on.  Um, a little bit of the toilet isn’t enough, kiddo, you need the whole thing.  And, only one person can sit on this throne at once.  I got here first.  Plus, asking every time that I go to the bathroom really doesn’t make me too motivated to put you on the toilet and give you the truck book.  It just wears on my nerves.  Ask when you have to go, not when I have to go, and maybe I’ll feel differently.

To his credit, he does ask when he has to go, sometimes.  And sometimes he asks just after he went in his diaper.  Oh, well.  I guess it’s part of the package.

The best part, though, is that we went away for Shabbat, and left the toilet seat at home.  From Friday afternoon, until last night at around ten-thirty, I got to go to the bathroom all by myself.  That is, except for once on Friday night, when Yitzchak couldn’t watch Shlomo, and everything was kind of chaotic, so I had to take Shlomo with me to the bathroom.  It wasn’t too bad, though, since we didn’t have his toilet seat.  However, I was kind of bummed that just after I had been looking forward to 36 hours of going to the bathroom alone, I had to take Shlomo with me.  For the rest of the time, though, I enjoyed the solitude.  Man, was it nice to go by myself.

Anyone share the sentiment?  Or have I just randomly rambled about a topic that is disgusting, [supposedly] private, and completely non-interesting?

Read this to me?

chibad hatalmud, kosher, rabbinate, studies to be a rabbi, talmud, talmud books, books on the talmud, books on kosher

from zbermanbooks.com

We have lots of baby books.  We have some big-kid books (i.e., not made of cardboard).  And we read them all (well, most of them).  But in the last week, Shlomo has been really funny: He takes the book above (different volume, same set) and brings it to us to read.  Huh?

You know what’s in the book?  Lots of words, in Hebrew.  And lots of pictures of cows’ and sheep’s esophagi(?), lungs, hearts, livers, etc.  In other words, gross pictures.  I bought this book for Yitzchak when we were engaged, thinking it would help him with his studies for the rabbinate.  (Part of the material studied involves how to differentiate between kosher and non-kosher animals.  Even if the species is kosher, an animal that has certain blemishes is not allowed to be eaten.)

And now Shlomo likes this book.  There are two other set-less books that he likes, too, but this is his favorite.  I’m guessing it’s because of the pictures, since the other two books that he takes from that shelf don’t have any.  When I read the book, I just skip the pictures and read words, hoping he’ll get bored.  Somehow, he doesn’t get bored.  When Yitzchak reads the book, he skips the words and explains the pictures.  Ew.  Just ew.

Just for clarification’s sake, Shlomo has other books, and we still read them.  However, for some reason, he has become interested in adult books, especially this one.  When I offer to read a book, I take one of the children’s (or babies’) books we have.  When he asked this past week, half the time it was for a children’s book, and half the time for this book with the gross pictures.

A Whole Roll of Toilet Paper

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I guess I thought that Shlomo knew the difference between sitting on the toilet, which is allowed, and playing with the toilet or stuffing things in it, which is not allowed.  I guess I thought wrong.

Really, I should have known better.  After all, we’ve gone through this before.  After the first few times he was on the toilet, we got one of those little toilet seats for him.  Shlomo loved it; I sat him down on it and his face lit up.  You could see him thinking, “Wow, I feel safe – I’m not going to fall – and I’m sitting on the toilet just like a big person!  This is great!”  After that, though, he decided that the toilet was now permitted – in all respects.  He started playing with it (because, as I said, our toilet lock broke), and put some toy or other into the toilet.  Obviously, we told him very quickly that the toilet is NOT a toy.  And, other than the duck incident a week or so ago, he has been pretty good about it.

Today, Yitzchak was changing Shlomo’s [poopy] diaper, and saw the poop hole move.  So, feet sticking straight up into the air, perpendicular to his torso, Shlomo was taken to the toilet.  Just when Yitzchak had given up and was putting the diaper back on, Shlomo looked like he was going to poop again.  So back on the toilet he went.  In the end, nothing came out into the toilet.  But, Shlomo pooped out a couple of crumbs (that stuck to his bottom) while on the toilet.  Better than nothing, right?  It’s a step in the right direction.  We let him keep his truck-sounds book (which is the toilet book, because it makes the toilet fun AND spares me from having to hear truck noises all day, every day) for a while after getting off.

And then, later, I walk into the bathroom to start a bath for Shlomo.  And I see a very common, but also widely dreaded, scene: The toilet is stuffed with toilet paper, and in the middle, right on the top of the toilet paper, is one of Shlomo’s socks.  I called him over and asked him what he had done.  He gave me the guilty look, and started backing away.

I said, “What are you going to do to fix it?  Do you need an idea?”  He didn’t respond, so I said, “See all this paper?  We can’t flush it down the toilet, because that would clog the pipes.  It needs to go in the garbage.”  At this point, he looked at me like I was crazy.  I repeated that it had to go in the garbage, and I took his hand and helped him take some out.

Now, you have to understand:  Shlomo is a clean freak.  Touching soggy toilet paper is not his idea of fun.  He pulled his hand away; I took it back.  I’m a clean freak, also.  That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have to get done, and that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have to help.  He did this; he will have to help clean it up.  So I took his hand again – and he pulled it back, again.

Again, I took his hand, and with me doing most of the picking up, we took some of the toilet paper and put it in the bathroom garbage.  He clearly wasn’t enjoying it; he also clearly understood the reason why he had to help.  By the time we were done, he was helping me pick it up, instead of holding his hand stiff.  We stuck our hands in the toilet and pulled out the cardboard.  Apparently, this was at least half a roll (I tend to think it was a whole roll, but maybe I’m imagining it).  When it was finally at a flushable amount, I flushed the toilet, washed both of our hands, and praised him for helping so much.

Then we changed his diaper, and he had a bath – which, if you remember, was the original reason I had walked into the bathroom.  Hopefully, the fact that he hated taking soggy toilet paper out of the toilet and sticking his hand into pee, will make sure that he never does this again.

It’s all about separating the business from the play, right?