It’s that time of year when parents and children are gearing up, shopping, getting back in the routine, and prepping for school, while teachers are cursing every time they walk into Wal-Mart and find the giant pencil display, reminding them that school is just around the corner, and by no means, will their students have any idea where those newly bought pencils went to. I was a teacher, I know.
This year brings two shocking predicaments to my door. My stay-at-home mommy budget was not really budgeted appropriately. I should have paid more attention in accounting or personal finance. Wait! I never took those. I was in creative writing and drama. Maybe I can write a fantastic plea for my husband to bail me out when my mommy fund runs dry or maybe I can use my infinite drama skills to whip out some tears. Actually, the thought of going back to work would bring tears to my eyes; I wouldn’t need much help.
The other predicament I find myself in is bittersweet. My first born, the sweetest, most energetic, and cutest boy on this planet will be going to preschool. Waaaaaaahhhhhhh! Sniffle... That’s me crying by the way. He won't cry. He’s ready to leave his smothercaking mommy behind. I’ve gone over the alphabet, numbers, colors, songs, routines (that he’ll never follow), rules, raising hands, single file lines, all the things that he will not remember when he gets there. He’ll see other kids to play with, and he’ll lose his mind! He thinks he’s ready, but I realized recently that we’ve got a problem. A big problem!
A pee pee problem…
A pee pee outdoors problem....
He thinks the world is his toilet kind of problem.
This is our own fault. When he was potty training, we just let him run around outside naked to get him to stand up and pee. All those “Good jobs!” and “Way to go pee pee!” cheers went to his head, and it’s hard for him to understand that toilets are the way to go, even three years later.
It was embarrassing but also very funny when, at one and a half, he pulled down his pants in front of a local restaurant before we entered to go right there on the sidewalk. The patrons with window seats got a good laugh and my husband never moved quicker as he pulled up his pants and ran him to the bathroom.
My son has also pulled down his pants and gone potty in the yard of a friend at not one but two of her end-of-the-school-year parties.
Public nakedness seems very comfortable to him.
He spends a lot of time with Daddy, “helping” with farm chores and checking cows, so his only option to use the bathroom is outdoors, and that probably doesn’t help with consistently using the available bathrooms. My husband will also go to the bathroom outside even when the bathroom is 100 feet away. Yes, I see you John; you’re not sneaky.
What I’m worried about, what I feel will be the first (of many) notes home that will start with “Your heathen child,” will be the note sent home saying that during recess, as the teacher was lining up the kids to go inside for a potty break, my son was taking a potty break in the bushes.
So, for the next couple of weeks before he starts his first day in preschool, I will put lots of emphasis on the bathroom. Not just to use the bathroom, room being the emphasis, but to also shut the door, to not ask anyone to check his butt to see if he wiped well (he gets a kick out of that), to not throw things in the toilet to see if they’ll flush, to not flush incessantly, to not waste gallons of water when washing his hands so he can play in the water, to realize that it’s not necessary to use the whole bottle of liquid soap, and to dry his hands on a towel instead of touching everything with wet hands as soon as he leaves the bathroom.