Oh, To Have My Own Sanctuary

Potty training is not about the progression from diapers to big boy underwear. It's a process that continues into adulthood, especially for boys, and sad to say some never become fully trained. Lift the seat and aim. Though this combination may necessitate some study of geometric angles, it isn't rocket science.

The task requires no more effort than raising an arm, yet it seems my boys' arms do not move this way. Not unless this action involves hitting or eating. So I thought if eating moves arms then drinking must too. However, the signs I stuck to the seat, "Flip-Top-Lid" gave them no clue. They must have assumed it was a target, since aim only counts in sports and video games.

I do dream of some day having my own bathroom, a sanctuary where offenders are ban. Fingers, notes, and cat food don't fit under the door and the dog does not drink from the faucet.

The "I have had enough" moment came in an eruption, literally. My child, the one that never lifts the seat, bellowed out "Mommy, we have a problem." In the bathroom, amongst wet, sticky toilet paper and water gushing from the toilet was the offender. Pants still midway between ankles and his precious bottom, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

One peek at my face and he decided this must not be as funny as he first thought and the grin was replaced by a look of astonishment. If my child chose at that moment to follow my example, then he'd have been swearing like a truck driver.

"What the h%&*?" Was my immediate question then foolishly followed by, "Why did you use so much toilet paper, we have wet wipes to follow up with!"

The floodwaters soon receded. The offender helped clean up the mess. I cleaned up after the offender who helped and I justified it all – the bathroom needed a good cleaning anyway.

I was pleased my son made good choices by not uttering a single swear word. That made me feel like I must have done something right and there was hope that he may steer clear of potty-mouthed adolescents as he goes through his teen years. Now, I just wonder what hope there is for me – I'm in need of sanctuary.