I have been changing diapers for close to a dozen years. This is not a complaint, merely an observation that I have spent 25 percent of my years on this Earth changing diapers. While it was not the only thing I did in that time, some days it started to feel like it.
I have a certain amount of gratitude here. As messy as it all has been, I am blessed to have children who had all the parts in the right place and they all functioned well. Some days, there was an abundance of functioning, but we got through those times, and now we are almost at the end of the diaper train.
If I had to stop and think about how much money we have spent on diapers over these years, I would likely pass out. There were several brave forays into cloth diapering, but frankly, I was not very good at it. The poop, the washer, the rashes, it was all too much for me — and I’m the kind of gal who puts up with a lot in the name of saving the Earth and a few pennies.
The past few days have been greatly encouraging as I have overheard my youngest singing about the potty. Years ago, I figured out — as many before me have done — that learning is easier when set to music. For years we had cassettes with math facts on them accompanied by a monotonous stick-in-your-head tune. I’ve taken that to a new level with my own little potty song.
It isn’t a new idea. When it came time to work on potty training the first time, I bought a video, “Once Upon a Potty.” It had a little story with cartoon characters and a catchy tune. We wore that DVD out and bought another. I have no idea if it helped or hindered the process. We all learned the song at least.
Now I find myself with a 2-year-old and no movie to show, so I have my own song. I sing it to my daughter at every diaper change and a few times in between just for fun. “It’s fun to go sit on the potty, cha-cha-cha,” I sing over and over. Sicily is not at all impressed. Maybe it is because that line makes up most of the verses. Or perhaps she doesn’t like the ending, “Potty, potty, potty, fun, fun, fun.” She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head “no.”
Still, we are making progress. Ever since I added the “cha-cha-cha,” she has started singing along. I hope that having her admit to herself that sitting on the potty is fun is a step in the right direction.
I also hope that nobody else ever hears me sing, and that my child doesn’t grow up and sue me for embarrassing her when she was only a wee child. That might have seemed preposterous, except that I read in Sunday’s paper that two kids did just that. The poor, abused kids in the story had to put up with a mother who sent tacky birthday cards and called her daughter on the phone and told her to come home. Scandal!
I read the article to my kids and told them they need to start making their list now. I encouraged them to use part of their free writing time to jot down whatever came to mind. I even offered up examples. Fortunately, my 2-year-old does not know how to write. Yet.
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