Ok, the moratorium on potty-related posts has to be lifted, sadly. It is not with any glee or excitement that I write about bodily functions, but here goes.
Joshua can poop in the potty, and from time to time, that actually happens. Joshua can pee in the potty, it’s happened a couple of times, but he absolutely refuses to do it for reasons as yet unknown to us. He is showered with praise, stickers, candy, video games on my phone, offers to do this or that, but no measure of positive reinforcement for those two successful Number Ones (Numbers One?) has enticed him to repeat the act.
We switched him from pull-ups to underwear to see if some discomfort might motivate him, but he is not in any way uncomfortable, or at least not enough to bring about any behavioral modifications. Today, he spent at least two hours sitting on the potty, reading most of the children’s section of our local branch of the Chesterfield County Public Library, playing games, telling stories, and drinking as much kiwi strawberry juice as I could pump into him in an effort to force the issue. Instead, he willfully held it in until, less than five minutes off the potty, a great flood of pee came flowing down his legs into my dining room. And then, before dinner, he did it again. That’s a total of four hours spent on the potty not peeing. This actually isn’t the first time he’s so purposely avoided something he didn’t want any part of. His first day at the beach was spent sitting on a towel eating crackers with his back to the ocean the entire time.
We’re at a loss. He won’t tell us, or perhaps can’t articulate why he doesn’t want to pee in the potty. None of our methods has gained any traction on this front, and I’m getting pretty tired of cleaning pee off his clothes and my floors.
I know that in just a few weeks or months this will all be over, but right now, I’m basically a practicing urologist. And janitor. If there’s a silver (golden?) lining to this, it’s that my hands have never been so clean in my life.